


Younghyun’s ridiculous plan to get into his teacher’s pants

by order_n_chaos



Series: Ridiculous Plans [1]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Coming of Age, Fluff, M/M, Rated T for language, Romance, Teacher!Jae, Teen Crush, Younghyun is WHIPPED, student!Younghyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/order_n_chaos/pseuds/order_n_chaos
Summary: Honey-blond hair, sultry looking lips, a grin that is so boyish and perfect – of course Younghyun has to fall in love with Park Jaehyung. Lucky him that he has just the right thing for it: a few simple steps to make the other man fall for him.The problem? Park Jaehyung is his teacher and Younghyun his student.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Series: Ridiculous Plans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821523
Comments: 124
Kudos: 186





	1. The crush

**Author's Note:**

> New story, new me. I kinda wrote in on a whim and to try something different from my other story that is more dark and explicit than this. This is just pure and innocent teenager crushes and love, mixed with a bit of angst because I'm still me.
> 
> Next chapters are going to be a tad shorter than this!
> 
> Hope you guys like it!

First of all, it wasn’t his fault.

Second of all, people are overreacting, like, really?

Third of all, who even needs math in their lives?

Okay, maybe it was Younghyun’s fault but – and here is the real big _but_ – Younghyun still thinks people are overreacting. Especially the principal. Detention for the next two weeks? Just because he missed math lecture because of—yes, well, because of some random kissing?

Who even cares? Younghyun is seventeen, the prime of his youth. If a girl comes to him and asks not so subtly for a make-out session in the empty music room, who is he to say no to her? Should he have turned around and rejected those pouty lips of that girl whose name he already forgot?

She is hot, she thinks Younghyun is hot, and they both think math is boring. Everything was well and dandy until, well, the music teacher walked into the room and found them both in a heated lip-lock session with wandering hands. _Not in his school_ , as the principle likes to declare over and over again.

Even to his poor mother, Younghyun sighs.

He is currently sitting in front of the principle’s door after a too long lecture and waits for his mother to come out and shake her head in disappointment. Again. Especially because it’s math class that he missed, such an outrageous thing for a former mathlete. People obviously still haven't noticed that Younghyun is a changed man, no longer part of that special club, instead getting a chance of being one of the cool kids at school.

Hell, even the music teacher was nodding in approval (to the girl because Younghyun is such a catch, wow~).

Younghyun slides down in his chair, pouting and sighing, hoping his mother will come out soon enough, when suddenly the door to the room opens and—

A sight that is beautiful enough to steal all of Younghyun’s breath; golden locks flowing in the early spring breeze coming in through the window, light hitting the smooth and tanned skin at the right angle, a smell like that of summer days and the wide freedom of the ocean.

This might be the exact same scene as in every other shoujo manga Younghyun read, but who even cares about that when this guy has such full pink lips and wonderful eyes! Look at those long and slender fingers! Younghyun has never wished to be touched by someone so much before than right in this moment. That guy that is striding through the room? Perfection on two legs.

His mouth falls open when mister perfect starts speaking to the secretary. Someone should sue him for having such a nice and melodious voice, as if an angel choir is singing prayers to god in heaven.

Younghyun’s fingers itch to wax poetic about this guy.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies with it.”

His chair screeches loudly when Younghyun jumps up from his seat, his heart pumping erratically against his chest at the scare (and the fact that mister perfect is suddenly looking at him). His mother is trying hard to keep the frown on her lips despite the way her lips quirk upwards to a small smile.

What a way to make a first impression, Younghyun thinks as he ducks his head in embarrassment, all while sneaking glances to the amused man standing in front of the reception. God, that smile!

“You’re in much trouble, young man!” His mother chides him again, even going as far as hitting him with her small bag. “I didn’t raise you to be like this!”

“Eomma, please!”

“And that disrespect toward the young girl!”

Younghyun wants a hole to swallow him, especially when his mother starts to drag him out of the room by his ear.

(At least that way he was able to hear the heavenly chuckle of the love of his life.)

~~~

“You should have seen him. He looked like an angel with his golden hair and pouty lips—”

“Younghyun-ah.”

“—and his skin was so smooth and tan. And his eyes. Don’t let me start with his eyes—”

“Then don’t.”

“—but they were gleaming in the light as if it was Christmas—”

“We don’t really celebrate Christmas here but okay.”

“—and he smelled like—”

“Okay, that just took a disturbing turn.”

“—the ocean and summer and—”

“Younghyun!”

“Yah!”

Younghyun’s lips form a pout when the sponge that Sungjin throws hits his head and Wonpil starts laughing delightfully at the white spot that is now on his blazer. He starts wailing in pain even though everyone in the room knows that Younghyun isn't hurt, his broken heart being ignored.

Today is just one day after his fateful meeting with mister perfect. This week Younghyun and Sungjin are on classroom duty, preparing the room for the day. Wonpil waters the flowers, Sungjin cleans dutifully the board (again, as if he hadn’t done so yesterday after classes were finished) and Younghyun—

Well, Younghyun leans against the broom in his hand and retells every little detail he remembers about mister perfect. Again. After he had told them just last night. Dowoon was smart enough not to come early because Dowoon knows how Younghyun gets once someone caught his eye—the prime example being the cliched poems that eventually end up as rather beautiful songs in Younghyun’s notebook.

If only there was a way that they could be just that – simple lyrics for a new song that their small band can perform during their club sessions and on festivals. Hard to believe that someone like Younghyun is known as the cool and broody bad boy who flirts with every girl when, in reality, he is the biggest love-sick dork on earth.

“We get it,” Sungjin sighs when Younghyun starts to ramble about that guy again. “He stole your heart within a second and you won’t ever fall in love again with anyone except him..”

“No, you don’t get it!” Younghyun wails, once again misunderstood by every single soul on earth. “I don’t know his name, why he was here at school, or anything besides how he looks like or what his voice sounds like. And really, think about it. What if I get the chance to meet him again and fall in love with his personality—”

“Dear god, please don’t make that happen,” Sungjin groans exasperatedly to the ceiling. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

“I think it’s cute,” Wonpil comments offhandedly with a small smile, taking a picture of the blooming flowers for his secret Instagram account (that his friends secretly all know about).

“Thank you.” Younghyun actually starts to sweep the non-existent dust on the floor when the first students start to filter into the classroom, chattering excitedly about nothing and everything. His thoughts wander back to that man again, a dreamy smile forming on his lips.

If only he could meet him again, then Younghyun would give his everything to make him his.

“I cross my fingers for you, hyung,” Wonpil whispers cutely next to him, a light pat against his back to encourage Younghyun to not give up.

What would Younghyun do without Kim Wonpil? Wonpil —exempted from the cruel souls on earth— gets him as he, too, is a romantic by heart. He always listens to Younghyun about his new crush and even helps making plans to get said crush.

(Sometimes, though, Younghyun suspects that Wonpil does it to laugh about Younghyun afterwards once his atrocious plan fails) (but then again, most of them somehow end with Younghyun looking like that popular guy that the girls fall in love with, who knows why).

“Have you heard about it?”

The second to last row right next to the window that is where Younghyun has his seat. School is boring more often than not and nothing can keep his attention for so long. He always ends up drawing or scribbling things into his book, thinking about the next thing to jam to or how long his mother will work for today and if she would prefer lamb skewers over bulgogi.

“About what?”

There are so many different things that Younghyun has to think about that somehow school is only number ten on his list of priorities. But even then he doesn’t really care because at the end of the day… yeah, there is no point to it.

“There is a new teacher.”

“Oh, did you hear that?”

Younghyun whips his head towards Sungjin, looking at a very teasing smile on his lips.

“What?”

That smile widens into a mischievous grin. Nothing good can come out of this. “We get a new teacher.”

“And?” Yeah, Younghyun doesn’t really see the point to it. What if they get a new teacher? Their old teacher is… old. Like very old. He looks like he would drop dead at every minute. A new teacher is a necessity at that point.

Sungjin, however, gets that teasing glint in his eye that Younghyun is always very wary of. Last time he had it, Younghyun walked into school with a dick drawn on his face because he fell asleep on Sungjin’s shoulder on the bus.

“What if the new teacher is your Prince Charming?”

Younghyun can’t help himself but bark a laughter. There is no way that his mister perfect is the new teacher. He looked too young and fresh to Younghyun, he must be at least as old as him. Maybe a few years older but not old enough to be a teacher.

“No, there’s no way that he is—”

Just when Younghyun is trying to defend his mister perfect, the door opens and there he walks in—

Hair such a fluffy blond that Younghyun wants to rake his fingers through, skin such a tan that he looks like being kissed by the sun personally, lips a soft pink as if he is wearing lipstick, and those glasses that he didn't wear yesterday— Younghyun’s mouth can’t do anything else besides falling open with a deep blush filling his cheeks.

Mister perfect smiles at them –he fucking smiles at them— from his place in front of the class. God is he tall and lanky. Someone should get this man (because he is a _man_ and not some _boy_ ) a manager and debut him as an idol instead.

Sungjin is dying with silent laughter at Younghyun’s flabbergasted expression and Wonpil—well, Wonpil is an entirely different matter. Younghyun doesn’t care. Not when the man of his dreams stands in front of the class and introduces himself as,

“I’m Park Jaehyung, your new teacher for the year. I hope we will have a good year together.”

Younghyun is fucked. Utterly and completely fucked.

~~~

Throughout the whole class Younghyun does not once stare out of the window. Nope, he is paying attention to the happenings in front of him. To be more specific, to his teacher. His very smart and intelligent and funny teacher.

Math problems? Who even needs them? Younghyun has enough problems as it is. Let’s start with the first one:

How should Younghyun call his new teacher? Seonsaeng-nim? Mister Park? Park-nim? Jaehyung-ssi? Jae? Hyung????? (If only he could call him hyung…)

So many different ways to say this man’s name and Younghyun loves them all. Even so much that his page is filled with the many vowels in Latin and Hangul as well because his brain can’t decide for one language with it being offline for a while now. And when teacher Park (let’s go with this for now, alright?) comes to his seat during class, Younghyun very quickly tears out the page and throws it into his shirt to hide his treacherous thoughts from teacher Park’s eyes. The class laughs and his teacher looks rather amusedly at him before he gives Younghyun extra work for slacking off.

Which leads to the second problem:

Younghyun has so much work to do due to slacking off during class, and such little time for actually doing them. In between his band, doing housework, cooking for his mom, detention, working, after school lectures, and dreaming about teacher Park only very little time is left for, you know, actual schoolwork.

Third problem:

Sungjin is currently laughing his ass off during lunch and Dowoon with him. Only Wonpil is listening to Younghyun’s problems with a cute smile on his face (and maybe Wonpil is very smitten with his teacher, too).

“You should have seen him, Dowoonie.” Sungjin clasps over Younghyun’s shoulder, tugging at his shirt to imitate how Younghyun threw the crumbled page in there. “He was so red in the face, just like a ripe tomato. And teacher-nim looked so baffled at that. Really, you missed a show.”

Younghyun shoves Sungjin away from him, pouting down to his home-made lunch.

“Is he really that good-looking?” Dowoon asks like that clueless kid he is. “Too bad that I’m younger than you guys. I’m always missing out on the fun things.”

“He is,” Wonpil declares at the same time as Sungjin says, “He’s okay, I guess.”

Hence, the staring-competition between them starts until Wonpil eventually breaks the eye contact, flustered with a light blush across his cheeks. Normally, Younghyun would comment on that, tease Wonpil about his easily blushing skin and Sungjin about his blindness to beauty. However, as of right now, Younghyun is watching the love of his life walking over the school ground together with another teacher, talking and laughing carelessly with his hands buried in his slacks and his head thrown into his neck.

It’s such a beautiful sight that Younghyun’s food falls from his chopsticks and his mouth finds its way down again. Dowoon snorts and follows Younghyun’s sight, humming in appreciation once he notices the new teacher.

“I guess he is handsome,” the youngest confesses before snipping in front of Younghyun’s face to get the man back to reality. “What about band practice today?”

“Younghyun can’t,” Wonpil butts in since Younghyun is busy with not snapping his chopsticks apart when teacher Park suddenly plucks some leaf out of the other teacher’s hair. “He has detention for missing math and snogging a girl into oblivion.”

Dowoon’s face falls. “Really? Why, hyung?”

Park Jaehyung is beautiful beneath that tree. Spring means that the cherry blossoms bloom, shedding their pink leaves for the world to hold its breath in hopes of keeping such beauty afloat. Just like Younghyun does when he sees his teacher standing under such a tree from afar, watching him as teacher Park closes his eyes, his face turned toward the sky, breathing.

In that moment Younghyun wishes to be close to him, to be by his side and claim this man for himself, only for him alone to be able to look at that beauty.

Spring means that flowers are blooming and along with it a feeling so wonderful that keeps his heart afloat, careless and very soft, always in danger of being broken. How much he longs for this man to take his heart into his slender fingers, caressing it as if made out of glass, a small smile playing around his lips.

“Earth to Younghyun.”

He can’t close his mouth, it’s just amazing how one look is able to—Oh. Oh!

Younghyun suddenly scrambles for his notebook— the one that is always hidden in his bag, deeply buried beneath all the other things but still there— and starts writing in it as soon as he has a pen ready between his fingers. The lines keep pouring out of his mind, feelings that manifest into such a beautiful thing that have suddenly found its meaning.

“I think we’ve lost him completely,” Sungjin sighs, albeit a smile plays around his mouth as he watches the lyrics coming together to such a beautiful verse.

Lyrics, song texts, poems; they all make up a small word of Younghyun. The place where he can vent out all of his feelings without anyone questioning them, without anyone wondering if they keep a hidden meaning. Younghyun writes much about love and heartbreak, about being in a relationship that doesn’t satisfy, about forgetting the one you loved. Wonpil once wondered how he got those ideas as Younghyun had never been in a relationship before, but the older only shrugged with a sad smile on his face.

Writing songs comes easy to him. The only difficulty is to shape them into a full song with a melody and rhyme as words alone don’t make a full song. He can get lost in his own words and thoughts, lost in the world he spins around him so that sometimes hours have passed without him noticing.

“What do you want to do about it?”

He doesn’t hear Dowoon’s inquiry, he doesn’t notice Wonpil’s little nudge, he doesn’t acknowledge Sungjin’s heavy shove. All that matters are the words that keep pouring out of him like little secrets only he is able to decode.

“Younghyun-hyung,” Wonpil eventually pleads, his eyes gleaming in mirth as he steals Younghyun’s notebook. “What is your plan?”

Younghyun looks confused into the round, blinking. “My plan?”

Dowoon nods. “Yeah, about the teacher?”

“Huh?”

Sungjin sighs, probably regretting what he is about to do. “This is usually the part where you make those ridiculous plans to get your crush noticing you.”

“Yah, they aren’t ridiculous!”

“One time you held up a sign where ‘Senpai, notice me’ was written in Japanese,” Dowoon reminds him with crinkled eyes as he tries not to laugh. “Even though no one here speaks a word Japanese except for that Yuta-guy.”

“Okay, maybe that was ridiculous.”

“Or what about that one time—”

“I get it, I get it!” Younghyun hits the table to keep Dowoon from snickering. He turns to his one and only friend at this table, the bestest of the best, his loyal Kim—

“Okay, let’s make this ridiculous plan on how Younghyun-hyung gets into teacher Park’s pants.”

Wonpil is dead to him. “This sounds atrocious!” Younghyun cries, scandalized. “I don’t want him to fuck me immediately!”

“Oh, that’s how you like it,” Dowoon swats at him with a fake girly voice.

Younghyun needs new friends. Like, yesterday.

“I won’t be doing anything. No plan this time, sorry guys.”

“What?” All three of Younghyun’s friend cry at the same time whereas Wonpil adds a small, “Why not?”

“He’s our teacher. I’m not stupid.”

“Yes, you are.”

Yes, he is. Younghyun thinks this when he lies in bed many nights later, sleepless and thoughts filled with a certain blond teacher, but that scene comes only later in the story. For now, let’s see why Younghyun is stupid—

“Wonpil-ah.” Younghyun leans against his friend, sighing deeply like a heartbroken schoolgirl. “He’s our teacher, okay? No plan this time, sorry.”

~~~

Detention is shit. Detention is boring. Detention is—Well, if it was fun, then pupils would love to get detention on a daily basis. Instead, Younghyun sits in school after lessons are finished for the day, polishing that piano that hasn’t been polished for years just because that was where Younghyun made out with that girl.

To clean off the sins, they said. Younghyun snorts at the memory of the principal lecturing him like an old grandfather who knows best. The only thing that keeps Younghyun from leaving that room and getting into more trouble is the thought of his mother being angry at him for any longer than she already is.

Where the heck is that music teacher? Normally she is all over Younghyun because Younghyun’s voice is that of an angel and he should please join the school choir because he also looks so handsome for his age—nothing Younghyun hasn’t heard before. Only that it's his teacher who is telling him that – a disturbing thing for Younghyun.

The piano shines as if new, his hands hurt like shit, and his shirt is sticking uncomfortably to his back because of the sweat from the physical activity. Younghyun longs for the end of his detention, for a long shower, for his guitar between his fingers and for food. Mainly food. He is hungry as heck.

Hence when the door slides open, Younghyun exhales in relief because finally his music teacher is back. Only that once Younghyun turns around, the sight that greets him isn’t his music teacher but none other than teacher Park himself.

Younghyun falls off the stool.

Literally.

And immediately scrambles up as not to look like the idiot that he is (his teacher must think so since he is laughing behind his hand).

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you…?”

It takes Younghyun a few seconds of getting over his teacher’s shining beauty to recognize the question in his tone.

“Younghyun. Kang Younghyun.” He bows in front of the elder, thankful for the chance to hide the rising blush on his cheeks.

Younghyun can’t believe his luck that _he_ of all people comes in here to check on him. He thanks every god and deity on this world for the wonderful present he just got. Teacher Park looks like a snack in his slacks and wide shirt, very formal but still young and chilled. Younghyun can’t believe that his teacher is actually, well, his teacher.

“Teacher Ahn told me to check up on you since she can’t make it. But I see you did quite the job with the piano.”

The way his lips move, that light pout, such full forms -- Younghyun’s eyes are glued to them. And how teacher Park moves through the room to inspect said piano, the way he leans forward, his glasses slipping down his nose and his finger pushing it up; Younghyun’s heart soars into the sky, forever lost on cloud nine.

“T-Thank you.” Again, Younghyun bows to teacher Park, mentally chiding himself for the stutter. Eloquent, cool and chill Younghyun reduced to some stuttering mess because he crushes hard over a teacher with whom he has exchanged two sentences at most.

But when teacher Park suddenly stands in front of him (in Younghyun’s mind a bit closer than he actually is), Younghyun looks up (because that teacher is tall, oh my god) with stars in his eyes. Wide eyes. Hopefully he isn’t that red in the face.

And when teacher Park chuckles that laugh that Younghyun remembers as the flustered one, Younghyun believes that his soul has left his body.

“It’s so hard to get used to all that bowing and formality,” teacher Park mumbles under his breath before he smiles at Younghyun again. “I guess you can leave for today. It looks all good to me.”

Yet, Younghyun doesn’t want to leave anymore. Not if it means that he can watch his teacher instead.

“You’re not from here?” Younghyun suddenly blurts as teacher Park’s words register in his mind. He quickly realizes his mistake with the flabbergasted look on the elder’s face, backtracking immediately. “Sorry, I haven’t meant to pry.” And bows again.

“Dude, that’s—ah, shit—I meant—No problem. You were only curious and it’s my fault if I can’t keep things in.” Younghyun thinks it’s endearing how his teacher slips up, cursing when he shouldn’t, using slang when he should be professional instead.

“It’s okay.” Younghyun can’t help but to sound breathless as his breath was stolen by that man. His heart will follow soon enough, he guesses. “I won’t tell anyone, teacher-nim.”

They both chuckle (!), an awkward silence enveloping them. Younghyun can’t bring himself to say a word as he doesn’t want to embarrass himself any further, and teacher Park looks like the same goes for him, too. Except that his teacher clears his throat to regain some of his professionality, putting hands into pockets which somehow contradicts everything he tries to be.

“No more slip-ups, Jae,” teacher Parks mumbles to himself --obviously not aware that Younghyun can hear him-- before he continues, louder and surer now. “You should go home, Young—Young—”

“Younghyun.”

“Yes, right, Younghyun. You should go home. It’s late and your parents may worry about you.”

His mother probably still hasn't left her bakery, but Younghyun decides to keep it to himself for now. Teacher Park looks so warmly at him, that sunny boy smile that lets Younghyun guess from where his teacher is actually from, and his heart is ready to jump out of his chest right into the hands of the other.

(And not to mention how good his name sounds on the tongue of that teacher.)

“Thank you. I’m leaving first then. Have a good evening, teacher Park.”

Younghyun catches himself how he starts to bow and retracts from doing so the last second, instead throwing his teacher a (hopefully) charming smile and a small wave (for which Younghyun hits himself in the night because that was totally not cool). He hears a cheery “You, too!” from his teacher, the words being stored somewhere deep in his heart.

And if Younghyun cuddles into his blanket with a wide grin on his face that night, that’s only for his to know.

~~~

(Later that night, he is gushing about his teacher to Wonpil, both giggling and dreaming about honey-blond hair flowing through their fingers and a smile that steals hearts within a second.)

~~~

Younghyun’s determination is unwavering. He won’t make any plans to win over his teacher’s heart as this would be the dumbest shit he could ever pull off during his high-school years. The world keeps turning and teacher Park keeps looking pretty beautiful, a welcomed distraction during his boring math classes.

(Did Younghyun mention that teacher Park does the math lectures from now on? And is their homeroom teacher, too? No more classes from the man who looked like he himself invented the Pythagoras theorem.)

His mind is filled with blond hair, pink lips, slender fingers, a melodic voice and so much more that forms into the teacher in front of him. The result: Younghyun doesn’t do math at all. His tests are still alright, literature is still lit, biology is still nah, and math… is coming by. He passes but that’s it, nothing remarkable or worrying about it.

Remember his unwavering determination standing like a tower strength? Well, that tower is very quickly crumbling. Three scenes are required to understand how it happens.

_Scene 1:_

Younghyun’s two weeks of detention near the end of the second week mark. As for the last part of the punishment, Younghyun was told to clean the music room from front to back (at least the piano is still shining after Younghyun had polished it clean as a whistle). Equipped with a mob, water-filled bucket and cleaner, Younghyun makes his way to the room, only to stop short at the music coming out of the room.

The strings of a guitar are plucked in rhythm of some beautiful melody. A voice so warm, sung in perfect English that fits perfectly the mood of the melody. Younghyun’s heart stops as he freezes in front of the door, scared of opening it and finding someone who isn’t teacher Park because his heart can’t bear to fall in love with yet another person.

Younghyun recognizes the song, heard it on the radio some time ago, but this cover is so much better than the original. Whoever is singing this, whoever is playing the guitar (the fucking guitar, Younghyun loves people who can play an instrument, even more those who can play the guitar), they can have his heart.

The romantic idiot he is, ready to fall in love yet again, his fingers itch to open the door and see the person behind. His mind procures the image of teacher Park sitting on a stool, that old and unused guitar of the school sitting perfectly in his lap, his eyes closed as he is lost in his own music.

His imagination doesn’t fail him.

Not at all.

The moment Younghyun slides open the door, the moment his eyes catch the sight of teacher Park sitting in the light of the window, that old guitar perched on his lap with his fingers plucking the strings, Younghyun’s soul gives up on life to enter paradise.

 _Beautiful_ is all he can think and all that matters. Beautiful is the sight of teacher Park singing and playing with a small smile on his lips and eyes closed. The only thing missing are petals flowing around, but hey, at least they do that just outside of the window that sits directly behind teacher Park.

Teacher Park suddenly looks up at the commotion as Younghyun’s limbs fail him. His hands let go of everything, mob clattering onto the floor along the cleaner, the bucket falling over and sloshing water everywhere. Younghyun doesn’t even care that his pants and shoes are wet, not when he flies high in the sky along with his heart.

“Oh, shit!”

Reality only sets in once teacher Park hurries off the stool towards Younghyun, picking up the bucket to save any of the water (and maybe those rather expensive instruments sitting right next to the door). Younghyun flinches away and only then starts to hastily pick things up by himself, embarrassment flooding through his veins and shooting right into his cheeks.

How come that he always embarrasses himself in front of the one person that matters the most? Younghyun should be cool and broody, not some dork whose body malfunctions as soon as he sees his crush.

He is cursing himself in his mind, something that soon quietens down once he sees teacher Park helping him with the mess Younghyun made.

Wait a minute, did teacher Park curse once again? That reminds Younghyun of—

“I’m so sorry, teacher-nim! I didn’t know you're here, otherwise I would have come later!”

With the mob in his hand, Younghyun starts bowing, just that the mob is far longer than he anticipated and hits the percussions close to him. The way everything suddenly crashes together, especially when Younghyun jumps after it to catch some of them (and maybe lose the rest of his dignity)—a whole disaster.

In the end, he lies on the floor in between the instruments, questioning his whole existence when the mob falls onto his head, too. Younghyun deserves the ‘idiot-of-the-year’ award, really.

However, doesn’t all his pain and embarrassment pay off when teacher Park suddenly offers Younghyun a hand and wears this goddamn smile on his face?

“Are you alright?”

Butterflies erupt in his chest while his hand reaches out. His fingers are so soft, so warm, and they fit perfectly against Younghyun’s. He wishes so much he could intertwine them and never let go again.

“Yeah.” Younghyun nods in case his quiet word doesn’t reach his teacher’s ears. The hand gone from his own.

Teacher Park, however, chuckles deeply, his eyes forming into crescent as he watches Younghyun keeping his gaze straight to the floor.

“Maybe I should get you new water. Wait for me, alright?”

A thousand years and longer. Younghyun would wait for however long it takes for teacher Park to finally be by his side, Younghyun thinks as he watches his teacher leaving the room with the bucket dangling off his fingers.

A thousand years and longer.

Younghyun is all about opportunities. When Dowoon told him he wanted to learn to play the drums, Younghyun took up the bass just to learn something new with Dowoon together, even though Younghyun already played the guitar. When Sungjin asked him to be in a band, Younghyun wrote one song after another that they could play at school festivals. When Wonpil told him that he may possibly be gay, Younghyun blurted out all of his homoerotic fantasies and confessed that he may possibly be bisexual at least. When the math club searched for a last member to take part in some competition, Younghyun learned calculus within one week just to impress the newest club leader. When his mother asks him to do a shift in her small bakery, Younghyun takes even two just so his mother can take a small break.

Younghyun sees an opportunity, Younghyun takes it. Sometimes. Maybe. He is more of the ‘do first and think later’ type of person. That gets him into more trouble than it’s worth but hey, what would life be but boring if he doesn’t? So what, he kissed a girl and then got detention. Kissing the girl had been so much more fun than math.

(Now though, Younghyun wouldn’t miss math for anything in the world.)

Such as right now, Younghyun sees the opportunity to impress his math teacher and clean up the mess he had made. He puts the instruments back, cleans up the wet patch on the floor and even opens the window to let in the fresh spring air.

At least now all evidence of his embarrassing entrance is gone and his mind hasn’t run in circles about his guitar playing slash musically talented teacher. And he even has a bit of time to inspect the guitar leaning against the wall, the one that teacher Park had played on. Younghyun’s finger glides along the strings, a giddy feeling in his stomach as he touches the same object that just has been in his crush’s hands.

Steps come closer and, just in case, Younghyun positions himself far away from the guitar and from literally anything that he could possibly destroy. The door slides open, Younghyun’s heart palpitates, never ready for the sight of his teacher.

“I’m gonna get out of your hair now,” teacher Park offhandedly says after he gave Younghyun the full bucket with a smirk on his lips. His fingers reach for his bag on the floor and Younghyun—

“I like your playing.” Teacher Park stills in his movement, looking confused over his shoulder to a blushing Younghyun. Younghyun needs to shut the fuck up. “It was good. Really good. I mean—” Yeah, so much about keeping his mouth shut.

And yet—yet—

“You want some company?”

That is how Younghyun ends up scrubbing the floor with some heavenly music played to him by none other than teacher Park. One song after another, from upbeat acoustics to heart-tearing ballads, teacher Park provides some good entertainment. At one point, he leaves the room and comes back with two sodas, holding it against Younghyun’s still hot cheeks, giggling.

His back is in pain and his knees ache from all the scrubbing, but Younghyun can’t be mad about it. Not when he has the luck to be serenaded like that. Teacher Park doesn’t talk much, enjoys the silence between his songs or looks at something on his phone, and Younghyun is content enough to stare unabashedly at him during stolen moments. Even if it means he has to stay far longer than he initially wanted to.

At the end of the day, he slumps down in one of the chairs, spreading out his legs for some pain relief. He leans back his head, unfortunately hitting the keys of the piano. His teacher laughs unashamedly at Younghyun’s scared jump.

“I’d have never thought that someone like you is clumsy, Younghyun,” his teacher muses with a lingering grin on his face.

It takes Younghyun off-guard to be spoken to. “I—I’m—people usually don’t… think that of me.” Very eloquent. Very wow. Younghyun wants to disappear.

Teacher Park snickers at the flustered figure that Younghyun most probably is. “Well, I heard that you are some broody Casanova who causes more trouble than not. It didn’t help that first impression that you were caught making out with a girl right there on the piano.”

Now, Younghyun wishes to take all of that back if it meant that his teacher would've had a better first impression of him. What kind of impression? Younghyun doesn’t know, but anything is better than to be described as some womanizer ruining his future.

There isn't anything that he can say to his defense. So, he only looks down to his shoes and shrugs, no words to be said.

“Well, don’t give a shit on what those people say.” Younghyun whips his head up to his teacher, watching him getting that far-away look in his eyes. “We all are more than what they make us seem, right?”

When teacher Park smiles that wide grin, his eyes form into crescent and his cheeks push them up that much that they nearly vanish. Younghyun looks at him in awe and, once again, all words are lost to him.

“Time to go home, Younghyun. Your parents may worry about you.”

And Younghyun only nods as he leaves the room. His heart never stops beating fast and for the next few days, fretting over the fact that he hasn’t spoken a coherent sentence to his teacher at all.

~~~

(“Wonpil, he can play the fucking guitar.”

“He can what?!”

“He’d sung to me. He’d sung to me the whole afternoon while I was scrubbing the floor.”

“Dude, that sounds so gross.”

“Sungjin, what the hell?!”)

~~~

Scene 2:

If there is something to know about Younghyun except for his inability to make something out of his lingering crush for the teacher (this week, Wonpil and he celebrated the one-month anniversary of teacher Park’s arrival in their life), then that he is very competitive.

That afternoon, some of his classmates ask him to join a basketball game after school. Younghyun invites his friends along and Dowoon even volunteers to play with him.

His opponent is the one and only Jackson who is always on par with Younghyun when it comes to basketball. And no one is allowed to be as good as Younghyun in basketball. Younghyun likes this sport, loves this sport, lives this sport.

(That’s dramatic, for sure, but Younghyun just doesn't like it if people are better than him in something that Younghyun loves with a passion.)

(Teacher Park is the only exception; he can play the guitar much better than Younghyun and Younghyun freaking loves him for that.)

The games against Jackson always follow a certain pattern: First comes the stare-off like in those old western movies until Sungjin, the referee for every game, runs out of patience and throws the ball up. Then, Younghyun and Jackson jump for the ball at the same time, either of them having the same chance of getting the ball (as if, Younghyun’s much taller than him and uses the height difference for his advantage), and then nothing counts except for beating the other. They scream, they shout, their heads are in the game, no singing about it as if in a musical.

Wonpil cheers from the side, Sungjin runs with them up and down with his eyes tacked on the ball, Dowoon passing him all the balls because Younghyun gets all the points.

That is until someone crashes into Younghyun. Hard. And he falls, lands painfully on his arm, a sharp cry of pain out of his mouth.

“Younghyun-hyung!”

All he notices right now is the sharp pain in his wrist. Hands heave him up as he groans, clutching his arm to his chest, letting reality sink in.

And oh, how it sinks it.

Younghyun needs his wrist. He needs it to play basketball. He needs it to play his guitar. He needs it to write lyrics and notes and to make small sketches of teacher Park’s beautiful smile. What if he can’t ever use his hand again? What if he can’t move it ever again?

Fucking shit, this could be the worse!

His throat leaves a sharp gasp when someone suddenly takes his hand, a soft and warm touch. It is not a grab and more of a leading, a warm embrace of one hand to another. Younghyun looks up and—

“Let me see.”

Honey blond hair that wafts in the wind, his long eyelashes throwing shadows on his cheeks from the sun standing so high—Younghyun suddenly feels calm. Calm but excited in a different way. The way teacher Park inspects his hand, calm and soft like a caress, Younghyun just can’t help but stare as if the world stopped turning.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” his teacher eventually decides as he lets go of his hand, smiling encouragingly at him before he turns to Wonpil. “Please bring Younghyun to the infirmary, Wonpil. Someone should still be there.”

Wonpil nods, then hastily but carefully helps Younghyun up to take him to the nurse, Sungjin and Dowoon staying back to clear the situation.

“He held my hand, Wonpil,” Younghyun whispers into the silent hallway, trying to keep the grin off his face but failing miserably.

“He did,” Wonpil agrees with awe.

The walk is a silent one as Younghyun follows his trail of thought about a certain teacher.

“Oh.”

The infirmary is empty with all lights off and the nurse already gone. Wonpil still tugs him in, placing him on the bed and then rummaging through the drawers to search for, well, something they both don’t have any idea of. Younghyun tries to help by remembering cool aids and bandages, neither of which Wonpil is able to find. He grunts in frustration while Younghyun clads his arm tighter against his chest as the throbbing pain gets worse.

“Maybe we should go—” Younghyun suggests just as the door suddenly opens again and in comes none other teacher Park himself.

Younghyun can only stare as his hand is already back again in that warm embrace of the other’s ones, fingers bandaging after cooling them, the silence tense between them. Wonpil stands off to the side of the room, his gaze locked to the floor as not to intrude the scene in front of him.

Teacher Park does a great job patching up Younghyun; the cool aid is not too cool, the bandages are not too tight or too lose. He works diligently and isn’t fazed by Younghyun’s staring at all. The last sentence he spoke was a simple “I’ve noticed that the nurse left earlier today” as a small explanation as to why he had run all the way up to here.

“I hope it’s not too tight,” his teacher asks to which Younghyun shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that, it’s a simple sprain. Trust me, I’ve got them a lot myself when I played basketball back home.”

“You played basketball?” Younghyun asks in wonder, finally looking up into his teacher’s eyes after testing the wristband. It feels perfect.

Teacher Park nods with a small smile. “I even dreamt about being a professional player.”

“What happened?”

“Well…” His teacher trails off, thinking as he looks to the ceiling. “I don’t know. Just grew up, I guess.”

That’s disappointing in a way, but Younghyun understands. Knows how life works, how growing up works. Knows that sometimes dreams are what they simply are, only dreams. Nothing that will ever manifest in reality, no matter how hard he works for it.

You grow up. You grow out of them. And sometimes, they are left behind without a word.

“What do you mean by home?” Younghyun presses when he tries to desperately flee from his thoughts. His teacher chuckles in response.

“My, there’s someone curious.”

“Oh.” Younghyun backtracks and nearly bows again. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t apologize. As I already said, it’s my fault if I’m talking too much. I’m from the States, if you want to know.”

With every new information, with every new tangible thing Younghyun gets from his teacher, he feels himself falling a bit more and more. His teacher is from the States, of course he is! It explains the tanned skin that has started to lighten up, it explains the bleached hair, the sunny boy smile, the slouch that he carries with such a graze, the lazy behavior.

A fire inside his belly licks at his heart, erupting in such an excitement that flows through his veins. Younghyun wants to know more, so much more about him.

“Really?!” Younghyun suddenly blurts – in English even. “I lived in Canada when I was a kid. Toronto to be precise.”

“That’s cool, buddy, would never have guessed that,” teacher Park responds in English without much thought.

Younghyun feels oddly proud at that. His face lights up in a beam, happy and undoubtably proud that he has surprised his teacher once again.

~~~

(“What were you talking about,” Wonpil asks afterwards when they leave the school’s premises.

Younghyun smiles to himself, feeling like he found a secret language that only he and his teacher can understand.

“Only that we share some similarities,” Younghyun answers, grinning proudly.)

~~~

_Scene 3:_

Weekends normally mean sleeping in, listening to music with friends, chilling at the park. Weekends mean free time from school but still time to learn for school, but a small break from it, nonetheless. Weekends are slow, weekends are freedom, weekends are healing for the soul.

Not for Younghyun. For Younghyun, weekends mean to help out his mother at her small bakery. It earns him a bit of allowance and his mother doesn’t have to work as hard as without Younghyun, so that’s the good part, too, Younghyun guesses.

Still, the only thing he does in that shop is managing the register, greeting customers, guiding them through their decision process, ringing them up and the occasional delivery job while his mother makes the bread and pastry in the back. Their shop is small, their shop is simple, not many people come to them but enough to keep them afloat. It’s his mother’s heart that fills those breads and his mouth, so Younghyun does what he can to help.

Most times he takes his guitar with him to play if there is no one here, other times he does his actual school work (dreaming about hot teachers doesn’t help him at all) (especially not when said teacher always gives him extra work for slacking off), at even rarer times he indulges his mother’s wish to learn how to make bread. Ever since he was a small child, Younghyun has been learning the holy skill of making those treats. Only just—Younghyun can do better than that.

Nothing he can ever say into his mother’s face. She would be heartbroken.

On one such evening Younghyun is skimming through a manga, reading the panels he had already read once before, he laments his forgotten instrument at home and his dead phone battery, too. The manga doesn’t get any better with each page, the typical girl falls in love with the boy and gets him in the end, when eventually the bell over the door chimes and announces the entrance of a customer.

Younghyun stands frozen behind the register and watches the customer venture into the bakery with his eyes fixed on the baked goods lined up at the shop’s window. Younghyun is quiet, very careful as not to make any sound that could embarrass him any further. He is fully aware that he hasn’t greeted the customer and that he may come off as impolite, but Younghyun really hopes that his teacher's American background makes him blind to that.

“Oh, nice to see you here, Younghyun.”

Teacher Park eventually notices Younghyun behind the counter and gifts him a small grin before he goes back to check out their offer.

Younghyun only bows lightly before he remembers that his teacher doesn’t care that much about it (stupid Younghyun, really).

“May—May I help you, teacher-nim?” Younghyun asks with a voice too high pitched, his posture too stiff, such a flustered show.

His teacher skims through the last section before he emerges again with a hum. “You can call me Jae, actually. We’re not in school here, right?”

Younghyun’s eyes double in size as blood rushes into his cheeks. Has he really--? Younghyun can’t believe it, he is allowed to call his teacher by his real name? And by some nickname even? Wait, Younghyun can’t do that. His teacher can’t go around and tell that to his students.

“Ah, but you’re still my teacher… Park-ssi.”

Even saying his last name makes the butterflies in his stomach go crazy.

Jae—teacher Park (that’s getting confusing now) groans in annoyance. “Sorry, I forgot. People are kind of stuck-up here,” he grumbles under his breath, smiling tightly at Younghyun.

Younghyun feels like—he feels like—he can’t describe it. As if his teacher is talking to a friend and not his student. His heart wants to burst in his chest, that’s for sure.

“If it helps—” Younghyun switches to English as his brain has one of its better moments. “—we can talk in English as long as we’re not in school. And I can call you… Jae.”

He did it. He said it. His name. His practicing pays off, saying Jae’s name in his mind over and over again and sometimes into the silence of his room just to test how smooth the syllable rolls off his tongue. And the smile he gets from his teacher—from Jae— Younghyun takes a mental picture to never forget it again.

“Ah, I can’t ask you for that. You’re still my student and I’m your teacher.”

“No one will be wiser if I talk like this, teacher-nim,” Younghyun teasingly says in Korean before he switches to English again and adds, “Or like this, Jae.”

Jae’s laugh echoes through the small shop, a tingle as soft as the petals of the many tulips in the shop.

(Only later Younghyun would learn that Jae is allergic to pollen and then sees to it that the shop only has flowers suitable for allergy suffers.)

“You surprise me, Kang,” Jae chuckles, reaches over to ruffle up his hair. “Keep doing that.”

Younghyun very much wants to stick his face into one of those big breads to hide his furious blushing but he can’t, not when the hand in his hair feels so good, not when the motion does things to his heart that will keep him awake for the whole week.

The serene scene is suddenly disrupted when his mother comes from the back. And you all know that once mother arrives, nothing good will come of it. It takes her only one second to see Younghyun all flustered and blushing to immediately know what is going on here.

And his mother can be a little piece of shit if she wants to.

(Younghyun takes that back, he can’t call his poor mother that. Please, some respect!)

“How can I help you, young man?” She offers her service in her endearing voice and smile that Younghyun has definitely inherited from her.

“I take it you’re Younghyun’s mother?”

“Call me ahjumma, please! My son seems to be quite taken with you!”

How can his mother talk to his teacher that unabashedly? As far as Younghyun knows, his mother probably guesses that her son has a crush on that customer with whom he seems to be friendly enough to have a small chat, and not that this is his teacher.

(To her defense, Jae looks young enough to be a college student the most.)

“I—I guess. I mean—” Jae doesn’t even get the chance to say anything as his mother suddenly starts to push biscuits, treats and other baked goods into a paper bag and shoves it into Jae’s hands.

“Eomma, what are you doing?”

“I’m giving your friend something to eat. Look at him, he’s thin as a stick—”

“Eomma!”

“I really appreciate that, Ka—ahjumma, but I don’t—”

“Please take this. No friend of Younghyun gets out of here without a small treat.”

“I’m not—”

“Mom!”

And suddenly, his mother swats at him with the towel that was tucked into her apron before, chiding her child for being rude to his mother in front of his customer.

“Thank you, ahjumma.” And then for the first time ever, Younghyun sees Jae bowing, politely and very charming, smiling up at her. “But please let me pay for this, otherwise I’ll feel guilty eating it.”

His mother glees. “Such a polite boy! Younghyun’s other friends usually just take what they like and mumble only a small thank you.”

“Mom…” At this point, Younghyun only whines at her defeatedly since his mother is deliberately ignoring his existence.

Jae laughs quietly at the small jab, taking out a few bills from his wallet. “They’ll learn soon enough to be thankful for their mothers.”

“I hope so! I mean, not my Younghyun, he is such a dear son—” And really, does she have to tug at his cheeks like his halmeoni loves to do? “--Always looking after his lonely mother and working so hard for her. If only he wouldn’t cause so much trouble in school…”

“Mom, please, stop it,” Younghyun tries for a last time, quite desperately so, as he flees from his mother’s clutches.

“I’m sure your son won’t cause much trouble if he loves his mother so much, right?”

Much later Younghyun would learn that Jae can be a cheeky bastard. Take this as an example: Those words have such a strong impact at Younghyun that he takes them deeply into consideration. Not because of his poor mother (yes, primarily because of his poor mother since he always feels guilty about her disappointment), no, because his teacher has given him his trust to not fuck things up. To not disappoint him once is suddenly such an important thing for Younghyun.

When Jae leaves the bakery with so many baked goods in his bag and so little money left on the counter, his mother calls a ‘ _don’t be a stranger’_ after him, while Younghyun is rooted in his spot, overthinking his whole life.

Because suddenly, he just wants.

He wants Park Jaehyung so much.

But he is still his teacher.

The whole night long he lays in his bed, staring up to the ceiling, thinking. He called his teacher by his name, his teacher who had lived in the States, who likes to play the guitar and sings like an angel, someone who is smart enough to teach math and who his mother has taken a liking to instantly. Younghyun knows—

He wants that man.

~~~

(“Such a nice boy, Younghyunnie. Your mother approves, my boy! Sweep him off his feet!”

“He’s my teacher, eomma. He teaches me math.”

“… Younghyun…”

“Eomma! Stop hitting me with the towel!”

“Are you out of your mind?! Your teacher?! What happened to that cute boy in your math club?!”

“That was two years ago! And even then, teacher Park is so much better than him!”

“Your teacher, Younghyun! He’s your teacher!”)

~~~

The next day Younghyun slides into the chair next to his friends on the bench just outside of their school, throwing a notebook into the round. Wonpil takes it with wonder as Sungjin inquires what it’s about.

“This—” Younghyun wrenches his notebook out of Wonpil’s hands. “—is my plan. My ridiculous plan on ‘ _How to get into my teacher’s pants’_.”


	2. Step 1 & 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that you guys liked the first chapter! This one is a bit shorter than the one before, but it's still funny, I guess? Enjoy it!

_Step 1: Catch his attention_

“Okay, how are we doing this?”

Wonpil, his best friend of all times, knows what matters the most. Whereas Dowoon and Sungjin are still judging him hard for throwing his every sense of moral and ethics into winds just to get his teacher to like him back and, maybe, hopefully, date him.

Screw that thing that he is his teacher, Younghyun is head over heels for that man and he is one hundred percent sure that there will never be another man as perfect as him. And Wonpil agrees, especially after Younghyun had told him the story of teacher Park – Jae – offering him his first name.

“You could flirt with him,” Dowoon tries to help, other than Sungjin who is snorting into his juice packet at the image of Younghyun flirting.

“Younghyun isn’t able to form a coherent thought when teacher-nim talks to him.” That’s totally true, but does Sungjin have to be that mean? Younghyun is hurt, really.

“I’m sure Younghyun-hyung can do it,” Wonpil tries to cheer him up, yet backtracks instantly when he sees his friends – including Younghyun – throwing him a doubtful look.

Sungjin sighs as he puts on his big brother mimic and gives some serious advice that no one wants to hear. “Why don’t you try to be yourself and see if teacher-nim likes you back, nonetheless? I mean, he should like you as you are, right?”

Younghyun snorts in response, planting his face into his book. “That’s some shitty advice. That way teacher-nim will think I’m a blushing virgin.”

“But you are a blushing virgin, hyung. Ouch, why are you hitting me?!” Dowoon, pouting, rubs against his arm where Younghyun just punched him.

“Not. Helping.” Younghyun turns to the only helpful person at the table. “I've already had a plan before you guys interrupted me. So, the reason why I saw teacher-nim so often was because of detention, right? So, I only have to cause some trouble during math class and then hope for something good to come out of it, right?”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea, hyung!” Wonpil claps his hands together, obviously very excited.

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard from you,” Sungjin sneers and throws his empty juice packet against Younghyun’s head. “He’s going to hate you if you’ll make his life any harder than it already is.”

Dowoon perks up at this, wondering, “What do you know about his life?”

“He’s a math teacher, of course his life is hard enough with us as his students.”

“True~”

~~~

Cool and broody guy who causes much trouble, that is what Younghyun prides his reputation to be. The girls are pinging for him, no one dares to mess with him and Younghyun has a very calm life – except for the trouble part. Even though his teachers like his charming personality good enough to let him off the hook more often than not.

And maybe his plan is a bit flawed since he promised his teacher to not cause any trouble anymore, but, well, everything is allowed in war and love.

And maybe his plan is a lot flawed.

Never forget, even though Younghyun prides himself to be cool and collected, in the face of his crush he just isn’t.

It goes as follows:

Younghyun plans to throw crumbled papers through the classroom to hit Sungjin’s head. Simple and easy, hitting two birds with one stone. So, when Younghyun opens his notebook to find an empty page, all he finds are pages of pages filled to the brim with lyrics of a hopeless romantic and his teacher’s name scribbled everywhere. Younghyun can’t risk using those pages and unfortunately, he forgot a new notebook at home, so he does the only other available thing he can do:

He leans forward to Wonpil.

“Wonpil-ah, can you give me your notebook?” he shout-whispers to the younger, but Wonpil apparently doesn’t hear him as he is still staring at the teacher, his pencil drawing flowers and hearts into its margins right next to the calculus task they are going through right now.

“Wonpil-ah.”

Younghyun leans forward to nudge against Wonpil’s shoulder with his pencil, which, you can guess, doesn’t work at all because suddenly, teacher Park turns toward Younghyun and calls him out in exact this moment. As surprised as Younghyun is, he loses his footing and stumbles forward, his sharp pencil piercing through Wonpil’s shirt (and ultimately his skin, too) to which the younger jumps in his seat and cries in pain.

“I’m so sorry.” Younghyun stumbles out of his seat and bows endlessly in front of Wonpil and his teacher. “I only wanted to borrow a sheet since my notebook is full. I’m so sorry!”

“Maybe you should go and see the nurse.” Teacher Park motions for Wonpil to leave before he throws Younghyun a contemplative gaze. “And can someone give Younghyun an empty sheet?”

Younghyun wants to hit his head against the wall. So much for attempt number one.

~~~

(“The nurse said it will stay gray like that forever.”

“I’m so sorry, Wonpil, I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, at least now I can say that I have a tattoo.”)

~~~

Number two goes a bit better.

This time, equipped with an empty notebook and Wonpil far away from him in a different seat, Younghyun changes his plan for better luck. He tucks in his white, bright earphones to listen loudly to music on his phone, so teacher Park gets suspicious and gives him detention for disturbing the class.

Only that Younghyun can’t decide on which song to listen to. He has a huge playlist filled with songs that could entertain him for at least a day, just, he wants to choose something that teacher Park enjoys, too. His head swerves up and down from his phone to the teacher, guessing his taste in music. He could always play the song that his teacher had played for him on that day, but that would be too obvious.

Younghyun thinks and thinks, goes through song and song and before he knows it, Sungjin suddenly stands above him with tight lips as he tries not to laugh. He fails miserably.

“What do you mean class already ended?!”

Maybe next time, Younghyun should think about it before class and not during.

~~~

(Only later does he wonder why teacher Park hasn’t caught him playing with his phone under his desk. His heart breaks a bit at the realization that the teacher had probably not once looked at Younghyun during that whole time.)

~~~

Attempt number three fails miserably, too, but at least it gives him an idea as to how exactly he can get his teacher’s attention.

He is sitting in class as teacher Park gives them their tests back. Younghyun made sure to add a few scribbles on his sheet, simple things that flittered through his mind in hopes that his teacher will give him detention.

Younghyun simply hasn’t anticipated that his teacher, that Jae, really doesn’t about such things. He is painfully reminded of the fact when teacher Park gives out the tests, a fifty of hundred points written in red at the top, and a small comment underneath it.

‘ _Keep up and your grade will become better soon. Btw, nice pictures, especially your rendition of the troll face :)’_

However, teacher Park still asks him to stay after class.

Younghyun smiles for the rest of the hour, happy about the comment and the chance to speak to his teacher alone. Maybe he can call him Jae again?

The hour passes rather quickly as Younghyun is lost in thoughts. He tells his friends to go ahead to which Wonpil throws him two thumbs up and Sungjin rolls his eyes.

With a happy hum under his breath, Younghyun makes his way to the front as the classroom empties, only to stop once he sees one of his classmates already talking to teacher Park with tears in her eyes.

“I really try to get better, but I just don’t get anything of it. I feel so dumb,” she tears up as she tries to explain the teacher her bad grade, clutching the sheet to her chest.

Teacher Park, obviously flustered about the situation (a look so cute on him that Younghyun has to grin), puts his hands up to calm her down. “Please, don’t cry. Maybe I can help you looking into a tutor who explains it to you? It isn’t unusual for students to not get along with their teacher’s way of, well, teaching.”

The girl shakes her head, even more teary than before. “But I like your teaching, teacher-nim! I’m starting to get it, but maybe it’s too late for that. I lack so many basic skills…”

“I’ll see what I can do for you, alright?” Teacher Park encourages her, smiling gently as she dries her tears with the napkin the teacher offers her.

Younghyun wants that napkin. He wants to be comforted by that man, too. A surge of jealousy spikes through his veins as he watches the interaction between them, grabbing tightly at the strap of his bag. Sure, there is no reason to be jealous because this is simply teacher Park doing his job, but Younghyun just feels so protective about him. Younghyun wants him. Just him and him alone, only for his alone to be.

“Younghyun?”

Drowning in his poisonous thoughts, Younghyun doesn’t notice his teacher calling him as the girl has already left. His body flinches at the scare and stumbles forward to his teacher, nearly running into the table if it weren’t for teacher Park’s hand catching his fall. Younghyun backtracks as soon as he looks up into the amused gaze of his teacher.

“S-Sorry…”

Teacher Park chuckles, patting his shoulder before he puts some distant between them and starts packing his own bag.

“It came to my attention that you are heavily distracted during my class,” teacher Park starts slowly, not looking up from his bag. “Is there any reason as to why?”

And Younghyun is really glad that his teacher isn’t looking at him, not when he is blushing again as the words ‘ _I’m thinking about you_ ’ lie on his tongue. He thankfully catches himself before uttering them.

But when Younghyun doesn’t speak, his teacher regards him with a worried face. “Is everything alright at home?”

“Y-Yes, yes, everything’s… alright.” Younghyun feels breathless and his hands sweat so much. Why are his hands so sweaty? “I’m just—you know? Lost in thoughts?”

“But obviously not thinking about math,” his teacher jokes and Younghyun laughs with him, even though he doesn’t think that was funny at all. “I’m a bit worried about you, though.”

Teacher Park worries about him? Does that mean he is actively thinking about him?

“I think you have the potential to be good in math. I’ve read that you were a mathlete before. Just, do something against that distraction of yours and that grade will rocket through the sky, alright?”

Just like his heart soars up to cloud nine. Jae is worrying about him, Jae is looking him up, Jae is thinking about him.

Younghyun nods in precaution as he doesn’t know which words will leave his mouth, but it doesn’t matter because teacher Park is still gifting him that nice smile that he always wears on his lips.

~~~

“I’m going to fail math.”

“What?” His friends shoot up at Younghyun’s rather confusing declaration. Why does he sound so happy to fail math? If they only knew, Younghyun grins as he sits down in the grass during lunch.

“But you’re good in math,” Dowoon remembers him since Younghyun is the one explaining him everything in math. Younghyun is the sole reason Dowoon is not failing that class.

Wonpil prompts worriedly, “Did teacher-nim tell you this?”

Younghyun shakes his head. “No, teacher Park actually thinks that I can raise my grades if I stop being so distracted—”

“Did you tell him that he’s the reason why you are so distracted?” Sungjin throws in with a smirk.

“No, of course I didn’t,” Younghyun sneers back. “But I’m going to fail the next test because then he will surely tutor me.”

“Teachers don’t tutor their students,” Dowoon starts to explain but Younghyun doesn’t listen, oh why didn’t he listen?

Why was he so busy to explain Wonpil his plan in every detail if only he could have listened to Dowoon explaining the flaw in his plan?

Because then it would have saved him from that disappointed frown of his teacher, the hits of his mother’s towel and the awkward hour with that Jaebeom from the other class because teacher Park had asked him to tutor Younghyun.

Younghyun proves quickly to Jaebeom that thanks, but no thanks, he doesn’t need help since he solves the homework faster than Jaebeom and then proceeds to hit his head against the table for the rest of the hour.

Stupid, Younghyun, stupid.

~~~

Every coin has two sides, a good and a bad. That Younghyun learns rather quickly. After his first visit in the bakery, teacher Park—Jae—comes to the bakery from time to time to buy those really delicious rice cakes that his mother is especially proud of. Most times he visits when Younghyun isn’t working but sometimes, he does. And then Younghyun gets the chance to talk a bit to his teacher. In English. Where he can call him Jae. (*squeaks in English*)

They don’t talk about deep topics, only the usual small talk such as “How’s it going” or “What can you recommend me today” or “What is California like?”.

He learns the small things, the surface level kind of things about Jae, things like that he is allergic to flowers and dairy, that he doesn’t have a favorite artist but listens to all kind of music (Younghyun asked this after his failed attempt of listening music in class), that he was rather good in basketball but lost interest in it as soon as people around him bulked up but he didn’t, and that he is currently reading a famous novel by a famous author that Younghyun instantly buys for himself and reads, too.

(He doesn't, he leaves it open after ten pages and is bored reading it.)

The bad part of it? His mother always nags at him as soon as Jae leaves, lecturing him on not making a move on that cute teacher since he is too old and, foremost, his teacher.

And if his teacher visits when his mother is alone, they gossip. Mainly about Younghyun’s schoolwork because Jae has first-hand information that most times end with his mother nagging even more at him than before.

Just like on this Sunday after Younghyun’s failed attempt number four (and his failed math test), Jae walks in with that chime over the door and Younghyun’s early summer day suddenly gets a tad brighter.

“Welcome, Jae!” Younghyun hollers in English, just to use that name that sounds better and better with time.

“Younghyun.” Jae nods to him and leans forward to inspect the left pastries as the day has already advanced into early evening. The rice cakes, unfortunately, are sold out by now. “Oh, you don’t have more of those?”

Younghyun shakes his head, frowning. “No, the last customer bought them all. Maybe eomma has some left in the back, I can check if you want me to?”

“Ah, don’t bother, I’ll take something else.” How such a lean and lanky man can eat so many sweets and not gain any weight is still a mystery to Younghyun. A mystery that he very much wishes to unveil. “Anything you can recommend me?”

This is Younghyun’s cue. He’s been waiting for this the whole day long, hell, nearly every day he works in here. That day, Younghyun sat down with his mother and baked some heart-shaped biscuits that not only taste delicious but are free of dairy as well.

“Actually!” Younghyun runs to the back of the shop to retrieve the biscuits, earning a glare from his mother that eventually fades into that gleeful giggle of hers (which mother isn’t endeared by her son’s heartwarming crush?). He even sees a sole rice cake sitting packed next to his biscuits, realizing what his mother had done. He runs back into the shop with a bright beam on his face, shoving both items onto the counter in front of Jae. “I found one rice cake in the back, but also—I—well, you said you are allergic to dairy, so I baked…” Younghyun trails off and looks down to his feet to hide the faint blush on his cheek.

“You baked this for me?” He hears awe in Jae’s voice and a tinge of happiness. It makes Younghyun look up to such a grateful smile. “Then of course I’m taking this. How much do I have to give you?”

Younghyun hastily shakes his head. “Nothing, really. It’s only a thank you for—” _Your existence? Your smile? For what, Younghyun, for what?!_ “—for that tutoring!” Good save, Younghyun proudly pats himself on his back. In his mind, of course, everything else would be very strange.

Jae chuckles, looking really happy to Younghyun. “I’m glad that I could help you, even though a little bird chirped to me that you don’t need the help at all.” Younghyun chokes on his spit, his blush worsening by getting caught red-handed. Jaebeom, that traitor! “It confuses me, to be honest. Why did you fail the test if you are better than the tutor I’ve assigned to you?”

Welp, what should Younghyun tell him? That he did it to get his attention? Because he is head over heels for his teacher? He is seriously lost for words here, how can he explain this without revealing too much?

“Ah—I—You know…” There is no other explanation that comes to Younghyun’s mind and there is nothing left to do except for staring ashamedly at his shoes. He kicks against a crumb down there, maybe he should clean up as soon as Jae leaves the bakery.

Jae sighs, raking his fingers through his fluffy hair. So fluffy, Younghyun marvels as the hair falls down into Jae’s eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me, Younghyun. Just—tell me if something is wrong with my teaching, alright? I feel bad—”

“No, no, your teaching is good, really good!” Not that Younghyun can judge that as he doesn’t pay much attention to his teaching style. Just, seeing Jae with a frown on his lips and doubting himself is not something Younghyun wants to be the cause for. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine, really…”

Silence embraces them as Jae regards him thoughtfully, something that does things to Younghyun’s heart. He doesn’t notice it, the way his stomach knots itself with all the butterflies erupting in chaos, doesn’t notice the way that his heart stopped beating. Everything that counts is only his teacher and nothing less and nothing more.

“Okay,” Jae eventually says, his eyes calmly watching Younghyun. “But you’ll tell me if anything’s wrong, alright? Doesn’t matter if it’s school, your friends or trouble at home, just… come to me, okay?”

 _The beach_ , Younghyun thinks that when he looks at Jae, he feels like the beach. A late and sunny summer day at the beach, waves breaking gently at the shore, warmth embracing you in that serene scenery. Loving Jae feels like a beautiful walk along the beach where you can leave behind all worries for a small moment in peace, an empty field with no flowers laid bare behind.

Younghyun is in love. This isn’t a meagre crush that his friends can make fun of. This isn’t some infatuation that his mother can nag him about. This is the start of loving someone. For Younghyun, this is the full force of having fallen for someone who feels so much like the beach on a late summer day.

Park Jaehyung is something else. A man made out of every star in the sky, of every fleeting thought that touches Younghyun deeply.

Even on that night when Younghyun cuddles deeply into his pillow, no call to his friends to tell them the happenings of the day, he lies awake with a lingering blush on his cheeks, thinking about Jae and only Jae, as his heart throbs painfully against his chest.

~~~

(“Oh, Younghyunnie. What should I do with you?”

“Not now, _mom_.”

“He is your teacher, my son. There is no way that he will reciprocate your crush.”

“Mom. I said not now.”

“Just… protect that good heart of yours, alright? It’s such a beautiful thing and to be broken like that…”

“I know… I know, mom.”)

~~~

_Step 2: Spend ~~some~~ more time with him_

“Hyung, got any further idea on how to execute that first step of your plan?” Dowoon asks in their break during practice, chugging down a whole bottle of water.

Summer arrives early this year, the temperature pressing down on the students with its heat. Their uniforms quickly change from blazers to shirts, the heat freeing and yet so repressing. Noon classes are the worst, but at least math happens early in the morning, so teacher Park hasn’t seen Younghyun in his sweatiest form yet.

(Younghyun makes sure to keep a deodorant with him all times, just in case.)

Sungjin, ever the one against Younghyun’s advances on their teacher, shakes his head. “Every attempt so far ended in a failure. I don’t know how long Younghyun can keep this up before the whole school catches up on his dorky side. Or his crush.”

“How does he even do that?” Dowoon groans in envy. “Everyone thinks he’s so cool but here he is, thirsting after our math teacher like the girls in my year.”

“They all have a crush on teacher Park?” Wonpil wonders in amusement, his eyes crinkling as he starts grinning. His fingers sweep over the keyboard, drying them of the sweaty prints he had left. “Hyung surely has some competition.”

“I can hear y’all,” Younghyun grumbles into the sweet bread he chomps on, the bass leaning heavily against his frame. “Stop talking as if I’m not here.”

Dowoon nudges against him, offering his water bottle as some sort of excuse. At least one of his friends has some manners. “But Sungjin-hyung’s right. Your plans haven’t worked so far.”

Who says his plan didn't work? They did—his friends are only too stuck up to see it. Teacher Park did notice him and does pay attention to him. Younghyun just doesn’t tell them about his many conversations in the bakery. And he hasn’t told them about his revelation that this isn’t a crush anymore.

They don’t need to know. Younghyun wouldn’t hear the end of it.

However—

“My plans did work… they only backfired,” Younghyun eventually confesses with a sigh. “He thinks I am good enough to pass math without his help. It’s just… he thinks the reason why I fuck up is that I have trouble at home.”

Sungjin contemplates for a short moment, frowning. “Do you? Have trouble at home?” he asks carefully.

“No, of course not,” Younghyun sneers at him, standing up from his place to lean his bass against the wall. “I need to take a piss.” And leaves the room.

(His friends stare at his retreating back, all lips twisted down in worry.

“What’s with him lately?” Sungjin throws into the round, looking between the other two back and forth. Dowoon only shrugs. Wonpil, however, still looks at the door, his forehead wrinkling.

“Maybe there’s something he isn’t telling us. But you know Younghyun-hyung, we’ll only know for sure when we read his new songs.”

A unanimous hum goes through the room.)

The splash of water feels fresh on his face. It takes away the heat that creeps up on his cheeks every time he thinks about his teacher. Younghyun hates that he tends to blush quickly and, even after months of having these feelings for Jae, it just won’t calm down.

Maybe he is only stalling in the bathroom. His friends are right. So far, every attempt ended in a failure or backfired at him. Even though he has this ridiculous plan, he has no idea on how to progress. Step two says to spend more time and Younghyun already has the advantage of talking to Jae every Sunday at work, but still, this isn’t enough to work with. Tutoring lessons are out of question and other ideas won’t come to him.

With a heavy sigh and a heavy heart, Younghyun makes his way back to band practice, his friends probably getting impatient for waiting for his return. Although, Younghyun really doesn’t want to go back in there.

Until he suddenly hears some commotion from the hallway to his left. Some boys are ganging up on a younger and smaller one, throwing some curses at him, one of them slapping the books out of the younger’s hands. Papers are flattering to the ground, one of them landing in front of Younghyun’s feet. It’s full of calculus tasks.

“Look at that nerd, thinks he is so much smarter than us, huh?”

They push him against a wall, the boy pleading to please, leave him alone, the bullies laughing at his distress.

“You wanna call mommy, you midget?”

One of them grabs the younger’s lapels, pushing him hard against the wall. The boy groans in pain, clutching at the wrist of the bully. Younghyun can’t just stand and watch there anymore.

“Hey!” All heads whip to him instantly whereas Younghyun walks calmly toward them, both of his hands pushed into his pants’ pockets. “Is there any trouble here?”

One of the bullies stands in front of Younghyun, obscuring the view behind him. “There’s nothing to see here. We only have some fun like boys do, right?” That fake smile on the boy’s face sickens Younghyun. He looks over the boy’s shoulder, frowning.

“Doesn’t look like that for me.”

“You’re seeing things, dude. Piss off before we—”

“Before you what?” Younghyun lays his head into his neck, looking down at the guy from his nose. “Punch me?” He cracks his knuckles once, twice, just for show. “Bring it on.”

And the guy really reaches back to take a swing at him, only that Younghyun is quicker and sturdier than him due to his year-long experience in playing basketball. The punch hits the guy directly on his nose and Younghyun feels something crack in his own fingers (and god does that hurt his nearly healed wrist), but the satisfaction of seeing the other guys scared of Younghyun worth it.

“You fucking psycho!” One of the not-injured guy yells as he packs the one with the bleeding nose and runs away with his friends. That was easy.

The boy slides down from the wall to the floor, looking up at Younghyun with a shocked expression, while Younghyun only shakes his aching hand with an ‘asshole’ muttered under his breath. He then leans down to retrieve the papers from the floor, one after another until he has them all and holds them out for the boy to take.

“If they bother you ever again, search for me, okay?”

The boy nods slowly, his fingers reaching for the papers as he averts his eyes. Younghyun sees the beginning of a blush spreading on his cheeks.

“T-Thank you,” the boy whispers, grabbing the stack tightly.

Younghyun sighs and then smiles reassuringly, reaching out to ruffle through the boy’s hair (just as Jae always does to him). “I’m Kang Younghyun by the way. You?”

“J-Jeongin.”

“Well, let’s get you up.”

Younghyun helps him up from the floor, patting against the boy’s shoulder for further encouragement, before they both turn around to walk their way, only—

“Park seongsaeng-nim!”

Jeongin immediately bows in front of his teacher, then again to apologize for his tardiness to the club, and then again for loitering around the hallway. Younghyun, however, only holds teacher Park’s piercing gaze, the tension rising.

“Go to the club room, Jeongin.” Jeongin, once again, bows to teacher Park and scrambles off, although only after he bows to Younghyun with at least two ‘thank you’s leaving his lips. Not once does teacher Park’s gaze waver from Younghyun and vice versa. That is until Jeongin has left and teacher Park sighs tiredly. “Follow me, Younghyun.”

They end up in the infirmary, again, the nurse nowhere to be seen. Teacher Park motions for him to take a seat on the bed while he searches through the many drawers for something Younghyun doesn’t know.

He is too busy admiring the view of his teacher, too busy digesting the situation at hand. What is happening here? What did teacher Park see? The punch Younghyun threw? Is he disappointed in him? He didn’t do anything wrong, it was only self-defense. Should he have let those bullies mess any further with the kid?

Younghyun is so confused about his teacher’s behavior, about the tension, about everything.

“I just protected the kid. He didn’t do anything wrong and those guys—”

“It’s okay, Younghyun.”

Teacher Park suddenly takes his hand and inspects it, just like that time before, only now Younghyun is in love with his teacher instead of having a mere crush on him. His heart is beating hard against his ribs, loud and fluttering along the wings of the butterflies in his stomach.

The fingers are soft, warm and yet calloused from all the guitar playing. They are beautiful against Younghyun’s own stubby ones with the skin dry and nails bitten. Only once teacher Park scrutinizes his hands, Younghyun notices the busted skin and dry blood on his knuckles. It stings where they are swollen; Younghyun hisses as teacher Park puts an ice pack onto it.

“Let it cool for a bit, it helps with the swelling.”

Younghyun takes the ice pack when his teacher lets go of it, putting some distance between them as he sits on the nurse’s stool, watching Younghyun again with that unreadable gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Younghyun disrupts the silence that lingers on for too long, unable to say anything else since he is at loss for the situation.

“Aish, you're giving me a headache, Younghyun,” teacher Park suddenly declares with a deep frown on his lips, ruffling through his own hair. “First the bad grades and now punching a guy into his face?”

This is unfair. “They were bullying him. And he was about to punch me!”

“That doesn’t matter. You hit him, full-stop.”

This is so not fair. Younghyun did the right thing. He helped the kid when no one else did, he protected himself when the other lashed out. It’s so not fair to be punished like that; disappointing the one person he didn’t want to.

“Look,” teacher Park sighs, slumping down in his chair. “I don’t want to punish you for something that I would’ve done in your shoes, too, but I’m the teacher, y’know? You did the wrong thing with the right intention. However, violence is never a good thing to resort to. You can’t go around and hit bullies, that doesn’t make you any better than them. And you _are_ better.”

Again, just like every time when Jae looks at him, Younghyun feels lost in the waves of his feelings. When Jae says he thinks he is better than them, then maybe Younghyun can be a little bit better than them. Jae believes in something within Younghyun. Not once has someone told Younghyun something like that.

Park Jaehyung feels so much more than a beach, he is radiating light just like a sun and suddenly, Younghyun is so ready to burn for that man.

“Nonetheless, I need to call your mother and inform her of your little brawl. And then punish you.”

This—this causes mixed feelings within Younghyun. Yes, sure, his mother will be furious with him, but his teacher saying that he will… _punish_ him… Younghyun should get his head out of the clouds and spend less time on the internet.

“Can we maybe not—”

“You violated the rules, Younghyun. There are no delicious biscuits in the world that can change my mind on that matter.”

Younghyun instantly blushes. “You liked my biscuits?” He wonders with high hopes.

“You serious? They were much better than those rice cakes your mother makes. Maybe I should come only at the weekends to get more of those.”

The way Younghyun lights up at this admission, the way his bones feel giddy at the excitement—who cares if he has detention for the rest of his life, Younghyun has biscuits to bake! There isn’t anything better than his teacher liking his cooking. No, correction, there is something better and that is teacher Park beaming at him right now.

“If I’d known that your face lights up like that, I would’ve told you earlier.”

“Thank you, teacher-nim!” Younghyun, so giddy and happy, bows out of habit and—unfortunately hits the edge of the small table next to the bed.

“Sheesh, you’re really clumsy as heck,” teacher Park chuckles as he presses another ice pack against Younghyun’s forehead to prevent the big bump betting any bigger. “And as for the punishment, I’ve already got a really good idea on what to do about it…”

~~~

“You aren’t serious.” Dowoon stares dumbfounded at him, his sticks sliding out of his fingers and dropping to the floor. “How did you get into that mess?”

Sungjin, meanwhile, rolls in his chair, laughing out loud, clutching at his belly. “You and the math club, what the hell?!”

“That’s not the question, my friend, that’s the answer!” Younghyun giddily jumps up and down from his spot, ignoring his headache because he is. Just. So. Happy!

Wonpil looks up from inspecting Younghyun’s hand to inspecting the bump on his forehead, mildly worried. “What do you mean?”

“Step two, guys?” Younghyun pushes Wonpil away from him, striding over to open his notebook for his plan. “Spend more time with him?”

And Sungjin, smart as he is, stops laughing and gets it. “Wait, does that mean that teacher Park is supervising the math club?”

“That it does, my dear friend!”

“Woah!” Dowoon glees in awe. “You’re so smart, hyung! Is that why you punched the guy in the face? Just so teacher Park punishes you to join his club?”

Sungjin snorts before Younghyun can nod with false proud. “You’re giving him too much credit. He could’ve joined the club out of free will.”

“But wait—” Wonpil suddenly butts in, having an epiphany that Younghyun wishes he didn’t have. “—does that mean you can’t come to band practice anymore?”

The stares Younghyun gets—he immediately lets himself fall to the floor, pleading to his friends in desperation, “Can we maybe reschedule practice after math club?”

“Hyung! I’m gonna miss Fullmetal Alchemist if we do that!” Dowoon whines instantly, grabbing for a stick to throw it after Younghyun.

“Just stream it like everyone else does!”

“Younghyun!” This time Sungjin yells, scandalized. “I have better things to do than waiting for you coming back from your date!”

“It’s not a date, only math club!”

“Maybe we could join a few clubs by ourselves,” Wonpil—good ol’ Wonpil who Younghyun can always rely on—suggests helpfully. And that’s that.

~~~

(“Kang Younghyun! What is it that I have to hear from Jae?!”

“I’m so sorry, eomma! But there was this kid—”

“But punching him in the face?!”

“Please stop hitting me with that towel!”

“You don’t use violence to help people, my son!”

“Mom! You’re _hitting me with a towel_!”

“Because I have to knock some sense into you! First falling for your teacher, then failing your test and now this! You will be the death of me!”)


	3. Step 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by your reactions and comments, really! Thanks for reading and especially liking my story!
> 
> Today we have the summer festival because who doesn't like summer festival? This time the chapter's a tad longer than the one before. Enjoy!

_Step 3: Impress him_

Step three proves to be quite tricky. Younghyun knows how to impress people – he has the look to wrap girls around his fingers, has the smile to catch some hearts, the cool face to make a lasting impression. Dress to impress, they say.

However, dress to impress is somehow impossible in school. Clothes? Nope, they have to wear their uniforms. A fancy hairstyle? Younghyun tried that before but only good scolding looks from his teachers and a lecture from his principle that _dyeing your hair is simply not permitted_. Wearing an earring? Scandalous! Make-up? Don’t start with that.

Younghyun envies those idol high schools where they can look like, well, not styled idols but still, they wear earrings and have colorful hair styles. He still wonders how Jae got the job even with his blond dye job.

So, that option is out of question. Next idea on his list: baking more biscuits. That works fine for now, especially because Younghyun can dress to impress his teacher out of school, but Jae somehow only has eyes for the pastries and not Younghyun. So, he is already too used to this method.

Next: his guitar playing skills. Only, Younghyun isn’t able to find the perfect timing for serenading his teacher without coming on too strong. If only teacher Park would walk in on one of their practices… the next school festival is still some time away.

Younghyun is quite desperate by now. His shirt is sticking to his sweaty back as the summer breeze does nothing to cool him down. At least his friends don’t look any better while they slouch on the wooden bench just outside of school, the heat killing them all.

“Oh man, why is it so hot in June?” Dowoon complains for the twentieth time of the day. He slurps his third can of soda, his limbs shaking from all the sugar.

“I just wanna go home,” Sungjin grumbles under his backpack that protects him from the sun (not really).

Wonpil nudges Younghyun with his foot, probably checking if he is alive. “What are you mulling over?”

Younghyun throws himself back into the grass next to the bench, groaning and whining. “Step three is full of shit!”

“Oh my god,” Sungjin and Dowoon bemoan the all-ever topic of teacher Park, too sweaty to be unbothered by that.

Wonpil, though, is as patient as ever. An angel, really, Younghyun should pray for him next time. “No idea on how to impress teacher Park?”

“No, since I am stuck in this uniform that makes me look like a chess board,” Younghyun moans in agony. He picks at his shirt to get it off his skin, wrinkling his nose as the smell of his own sweat punches him in the nose. “And I smell like shit in this heat.”

“Feel you,” they agree in unison.

Dowoon lights up as he gets an idea, looking like a puppy who sees a rabbit for the first time. Wonpil jumps as the youngest grabs his arms in excitement. “How about you play a song for him?”

Younghyun rolls on his side to unsee Dowoon’s cute face because saying no to that is nearly impossible. Nearly. “We’re not in a drama.” And Younghyun has already dismissed this idea, but Dowoon doesn’t need to know that, right?

“Oh my god! How can someone be so dumb and intelligent at the same time?” This sounds oddly like a compliment wrapped in an insult. Younghyun rolls back to his friends, regards Sungjin with a cocked eyebrow because he doesn’t know where Sungjin is going with this. “You’re good at math, right?” Younghyun nods hesitantly. “And you’re in a math club.”

“Yes, but what—”

“Dude, just get your math game on and show off how intelligent you are.”

Sungjin has a point. Younghyun _is_ good at math. And he is in a math club under teacher Park’s guidance. How hasn’t he thought about that any earlier?!

“Hyung, you are my hero!”

~~~

Younghyun is determined. Younghyun is intelligent. Younghyun is… very much lost.

“How the fuck did you get to that point?!”

The boy next to him flinches in his seat, looking shyly up to Younghyun’s face and tries a cocky grin that ends up in a grimace. Younghyun is too lost in his task to comment on that awkward face.

“Well, you just add that here while you deduct it from here and then—you get this result.”

“Oh.”

This should be embarrassing. Younghyun sits in the math club, teacher Park sits in the corner of the room and smiles at their small round that consists of four lone boys who make up their school’s math boy team, and the youngest of them (a genius, really, he is so much smarter than all of them together in the room) explains Younghyun things he should have already learnt last year.

(Younghyun slacks off during lectures, remember? So, sue him if he doesn’t remember how to do that. Screw Vieta’s formula.)

So far, his plan doesn’t really show any fruits. He is working hard at catching up with the math classes that teacher Park is currently giving and then some more catching up with the things he already forgot but should be good at. His grade is rising from time to time, but Younghyun still hasn’t reached genius level. Maybe he should resort to his math dance skills if nothing else works.

(That minus really has finesse.)

“What would I do without you, Jeongin?” Younghyun sighs as he plants his face into his book, really thankful for that boy’s existence.

The first time Younghyun had set a foot into the club room, his eyes immediately found those of the boy he had rescued that day before. Jeongin gave him such a precious smile that Younghyun couldn’t help but forget about the trouble that he’d caused him (and not because teacher Park looked so happy to see him).

Now, weeks into the club, Younghyun does a good job here. He just hasn’t caught on why this club even exists in the first place. So, he asks the one man who could possibly answer it.

“What even are we working toward to in this club, teacher-nim?”

Younghyun busies himself with getting something to drink from that vendor machine outside of school (no, he didn’t follow teacher Park out here, how can you even think that about him?), stalling in front of it as he doesn’t know which can he should get.

He hears the click of another can being opened and suddenly something cold is pressed into his neck. Younghyun yells as he startles back, catching his teacher snickering into his fist as he holds out a second can for Younghyun to take.

Oh shit, did he notice Younghyun following him?

“Take that, it’s on me. Your mother is giving me so many discounts that I feel like stealing from your bakery.”

Younghyun takes the can with a small ‘thank you’, trying not to react when their fingers touch.

“As for your question—” Teacher Park starts to answer while sipping the ice coffee. “—there’s a math competition this fall that Jeongin really wants to participate in. So, I’ve founded the club and searched for people. Ultimately, we need four people to participate, hence why I made you join the club.”

“What the—you screwed me over?”

Teacher Park hits him against the shoulder, scowling. “No cursing at school! And yes, maybe I did fool you into joining. You are a former mathlete who looked a bit lost to me, so I was hoping to give you some guidance with the club.” Another sip and Younghyun watches in trance his neck, the movement of his adam’s apple, so wonderful. “Plus, have you seen Jeongin’s puppy eyes? How can you say no to that?”

“He hasn’t asked me,” Younghyun mutters only for himself to hear, rubbing his shoulder. His teacher throws some strong punches. Younghyun only may wonder about what else those hands are able to do—a thought for another day (better night. Nights are so much better for things like this.)

But the fact that teacher Park founded a club for the sole purpose of fulfilling a simple boy’s dream? Can Younghyun fall any deeper for the man?

“It’s nice to have someone believe in you. Jeongin must be happy,” Younghyun speaks into his can, watching the trees rustling far away. Light wind blowing, the sun shining bright and somewhere far away the tides are roaring.

“He’s smart. It would be a waste not to support him.”

Teacher Park—Jae—sounds so wistful, as far away as Younghyun feels right now. This is another one of their moments where Younghyun feels the world slipping out of his hand and his admiration for Jae strengthening.

Only that now Younghyun feels more and more slipping away from Jae, instead watching a child play in a wide field and its father picking it up, laughter ringing through the air.

“Not many people think like you.” The father kisses the child on its cheek, fondly and full of happiness. The child’s laughter gets louder as the waves crash onto the shore, sweeping Younghyun off his feet.

Jae doesn’t say much, doesn’t say anything at all. Younghyun feels caught in the moment, watching that father-son duo playing, time running like sand slipping through his fingers, lost for eternity and never the same as before.

His hand crushes the can lightly, but Younghyun doesn’t notice. Not when the waves are so loud, keeping him in and drowning.

“Younghyun.”

A simple call, and the moment is broken. Younghyun whips around to see his teacher, his eyes searching for something in his face, the worry etched into his lines. Jae looks at him like that, thoughtful and mulling over something.

Yet, what he says next, calms the waves down and instead causes a storm to roar that has his heart caught within him. Younghyun feels trapped in the middle of the force that is Park Jaehyung.

“I have faith in you, too.”

Younghyun’s eyes widen as the can slips from his fingers, splashing against the ground and dunking his shoes in coffee.

“Sheesh, clumsy as—”

“What do you mean?” Younghyun sounds urgent. Desperate. He wants to know. He wants to know why his heart suddenly beats differently, quick as if desperate to hunt for something he has never been able to catch before.

There is that face of Jae’s again, the one where he looks at Younghyun and somehow—he _sees_. But what? What does he see?

Just then, Jae puts his hand onto Younghyun’s head, not ruffling through his hair, only resting it there to make sure that Younghyun doesn’t look away.

“I think that you can be so much more than you let people believe. Just have some faith in yourself.” And suddenly, the hand presses Younghyun’s head down to let him look at his feet, as if Younghyun is forbidden to watch Jae’s face for what is about to come. “And if you can’t, then I’ll just do it for you. Just keep surprising me, alright?”

What a good thing that Younghyun is already staring at his feet. He doesn’t want Jae to see the way his eyes glaze over or the redness that clings to his cheeks as if they have found their second home in there.

Calm down, he whispers to his erratically beating heart, he doesn’t mean it like that. Still, Younghyun wants to believe that Jae means it like that. He really, really wants to believe that. He takes this promise to his heart, a new set determination to never disappoint his teacher ever again.

He will surprise him again and again until his feelings reach Jae’s heart.

~~~

(“Jeongin? Do me a favor, please?”

“Sure, what do you need, hyung?”

“Give me a crash course in math. I need to know everything by yesterday.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“Sunday at this bakery. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Y-yeah…”)

~~~

Younghyun is stubborn once he has set his eyes on something. He is stubborn enough to keep playing in a band even though schoolwork is pressing hard on his shoulders. He is stubborn enough to master math once again, just to see his grades rising and his teacher’s proud smiles. He is stubborn enough to pursue a love that will probably never bloom into something. But he still has to try.

And step three still isn’t done.

When Younghyun gets his first one-hundred-points test back, a small ‘told you so :)’ is written beneath his score, something that keeps the grin on Younghyun’s face for the whole day but still doesn’t count as impressing his teacher.

Math club is going well and Jeongin slowly comes out of his shell. He teases Younghyun on a regular basis that tends to annoy Younghyun less than he thinks of it as endearing. When he looks at his teacher from time to time, he thinks he sees something on his face that Younghyun hasn’t caught on to what it means.

Summer vacation approaches quickly as June turns into July and with summer vacation comes summer school and with it the pressing preparations for the end of the year exams that stress Younghyun much less than he expected it to.

However, summer vacation is a bad thing as it means that he gets less time to see his most favorite teacher. Younghyun needs an emergency plan right now. He needs to impress his teacher before the school's out because only then he can progress to step four, and step four is vital if he wants to survive summer vacation.

His friends are no help whatsoever as Sungjin has gradually started to ignore the topic of Younghyun’s infatuation and stupid plan, Dowoon outright rejects to help as he is too busy with learning this new drum move that he had seen on the internet, and Wonpil somehow gets less and less creative with every suggestion.

Or maybe Younghyun is just too picky.

Eventually, so much time passes that Younghyun works his ass off without any progress and has to draw on his last resort. The summer festival.

“We need to put our best songs on the setlist and then perfect them until the festival,” Younghyun declares one Saturday evening as he shoves his friends a.k.a. band members an already prepared set list into the face.

“You wanna start with ‘For me’? That’s setting some sad vibes,” Sungjin comments on the list with his forehead in wrinkles.

Dowoon, however, only punches Sungjin into the arm. “Younghyun-hyung can only write sad break-up songs.”

“Yah! I’ve written ‘So cool’ too and that isn’t a break-up song!”

“That song is pretentious, though. And you watched too much _Masamune-kun’s revenge_ at that time,” Wonpil jabs at him while his eyes scan the page.

See, what did Younghyun say about them? Huh?? His friends only exist to mock him!

“Please look for another lyricist if you don’t appreciate me!”

But in the end, everything is alright again when they start laughing together, working together on the set list and practice for their songs. It was music that brought them together, one for one. When Younghyun had moved back from Canada in middle school, he felt lost with all those students watching him as if he was an alien.

Dowoon was the first to befriend him. The younger lived and still lives next to Younghyun and always listened in on Younghyun playing his children’s guitar until he got enough courage to ask questions about chords and tempo and rhythm. And then, one day, Younghyun learnt the bass so Dowoon didn’t have to learn the drum all on his own.

Next was Wonpil from Younghyun’s music course. Younghyun fell for the piano skills and asked Wonpil to join his band without preamble. They both found a connection rather quickly, dreaming about love and music and the stars in the sky, strengthening their bond on one night when Wonpil confessed he likes boys and Younghyun said he does, too.

And then, on another day, Younghyun found a paper in school that this new classmate was trying to form a band and Younghyun brought all his friends with him. Sungjin was a perfect fit to their group, older and wiser and good at keeping them in line. Where Younghyun and Wonpil are dreamers, Sungjin is the voice of reason.

Younghyun is thankful for his friends, for each one of them. Without them, his life would be quite a lonely one with only his dear mother left.

Being cool and broody does such a thing, huh?

“Is teacher Park even coming to the festival?”

Oh, that’s a good point Dowoon is rising. Another point for the ‘Younghyun is really dumb’ list.

Sungjin only sighs at Younghyun’s panicked expression.

~~~

Younghyun is an awkward dork once he’s in love. We all know that at this point and Younghyun, too, is acutely aware of that. He stands rooted in his spot, waiting for all the other students to leave the room, squirming and kicking imaginary dirt on the floor as his fingers clamp around the box behind his back.

It’s partially his fault that he is in that situation now. Somehow, his mother had overheard the conversation last Saturday and made her own plans on how to embarrass Younghyun. So, when Younghyun was ready to leave this morning, she shoved that box filled with Younghyun’s baked biscuits (he usually keeps them in case Jae visits their bakery) into his hands, then pressed a kiss on his cheek and encouraged him to give the box to her dear Jae.

Younghyun can recognize a broad hint. And his mother wasn’t subtle at all.

As said, it’s partially his own fault but a lot of his mother’s, too, that he now stands in his classroom with a box full of biscuits for his teacher, feeling very nervous about approaching said teacher. The room is empty except for them two, and Younghyun stares at the ground while Jae is staring at him expectantly.

This is so awkward. _Just do it, Younghyun!_

He stumbles forward in that good old Younghyun fashion but catches himself in front of teacher Park’s desk, holding out the box with his head lowered to hide the embarrassment.

Younghyun clears his throat after his first attempt of speaking ends in a croak. “My mother wants you to have it.”

“Oh,” teacher Park perks up as he takes the box from Younghyun and peeks into it. “Are those your biscuits?” Younghyun nods shyly, fiddling with his fingers as he feels so empty-handed now. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. And tell your mother thank you from me, too!”

This should be his cue to bolt out of the room and hide in the school’s darkest corner for being so cringey and awkward, but Younghyun is here on a mission. He has a mother that he can’t disappoint!

“Is anything else?” Jae inquires nicely since Younghyun hasn’t moved from his spot for too long by now.

Younghyun takes a deep breath as he collects all of his courage, looks up and—

He can’t do it. Not when teacher Park looks at him with that smile. Younghyun wants to haul himself off a cliff, this is too embarrassing. He can feel the blood shooting into his cheeks and ears and he probably looks like a tomato now. Great.

_Come on, Younghyun, you can do it! You are stubborn, alright?_

When Jae cocks his head and the smile slips off his face, Younghyun just has to do it.

“The school festival,” he suddenly blurts and his teacher startles, blinking in confusion.

“What about it?”

“I—I’m playing at the school festival and I—well, I—” He can’t get those words out. This is too much for his head. He wants to die on the spot!

Teacher Park, on the other hand, seems to glow like a star on a clear night sky. So pretty. “Oh, you’re part of that band? What was the name again?”

“Day6.”

“Ah, such a cool name. I’m sure you’ll be rocking that crowd, right?” Younghyun only nods, at loss as what to say. “Then I’m looking forward to listening to you.”

Wait. What?

“You’re coming?”

Teacher Park beams at him, bright as the sun. “Of course. The other teachers are all fussing about the band that is going to play there. I’ve been curious before but now that I know that you’re playing, I’m ready to be surprised by you again.”

“Again?”

“Of course.” And Jae pats his head, again, his hair a mess through his fingers. “Like I said, you are so much more than you let people believe.”

But isn’t it the other way around, Younghyun thinks. Jae surprises him again and again, takes him off-guard and makes him fall for him even more. Younghyun already is in love but it feels like so much more now.

Like the middle of a storm where chaos is everywhere except for where you stand, the calmest place of the world. Warm and untouchable.

~~~

(“He’s coming, Wonpil, he’s coming!”

“Really?! Oh my god, we have to practice so much more!”

“I know! I can’t believe that he's going to see us playing live. Oh my god, Wonpil, he is going to see us playing.”

“We’re going to be awesome. He will fall for you, I promise!”)

~~~

The summer festival really lives up to its name. The temperatures reach a new record for this year as the sun is burning down on mingling people, all cheery and in a very festive mood.

Let’s turn back the clock a few hours.

Younghyun is relieved that he doesn’t have to wear that sticky school uniform for that. It’s Saturday in the afternoon, no school for the next few weeks anymore except for, well, summer school. But that is of no concern for Younghyun as he is still standing in front of Wonpil’s closet, brushing his hair up and then down, mulling over on how to wear it.

His earrings are dangling in a rhythm along to his bracelets, his rings are shining. Younghyun had scrambled through his own closet in search for a hot shirt that brings out the best of his… body. Welp, Younghyun has a nice figure to look at and the biceps from all the guitar playing, but that is where it all ends. And he has a face that people find attractive, so that’s that.

Still, today is important. Today is the day when teacher Park will watch him on stage rocking the crowd and Younghyun wants to look as good as possible. Hence, he is currently at Wonpil’s, rifling through the younger’s secret stash of make-up that doesn’t fit to Younghyun’s skin tone, but the eyeliner and highlighter do a good enough job for the aesthetic he is going for. Which is… good looking.

Wonpil sighs deeply as Younghyun is about to shrug off his own black shirt for a white one out of Wonpil’s closet. “You look fine, hyung.”

“Only fine?”

“So hot that teacher Park will try to eat—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wonpil rolls over on his bed to look at Younghyun from upside-down, smirking mischievously. “Why so shy? I know for a fact that you’re watching gay porn. You recommend me things.”

That audacity to call him out on that. Younghyun throws him a nasty glance and then the white shirt afterwards, deciding for his own black one indefinitely. “I’m pure and innocent, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Pure and innocent my ass.” Wonpil follows Younghyun on his way outside where Wonpil’s parents are already waiting in their car with the instruments packed in the back. “You literally wrote a song about how you’re thirsting for teacher Park. What was it again? ‘Just by standing in front of you I turn into a dog’?”

“Wonpil!”

Fast forward to the actual summer festival.

Their instruments are safely stored behind the stage and their show doesn’t start until a few hours. Free time to roam through the different stands that smell even better than Younghyun imagined them to do, hence he declares to eat at least one thing from every food stand together with Sungjin. Wonpil and Dowoon have long separated from them in hopes of playing games and winning prices, their stomachs long satisfied.

At one of the food stalls that is run by the Japanese students of their school, Younghyun waits in line to get one serving of that good-looking Takoyaki. He lets his gaze wander from the line to the food before it swerves to the right and—oh?

There is a girl looking at them. When she notices Younghyun’s gaze, her cheeks turn red and she whips her head around to her friends, all of them giggling and whispering. Younghyun nudges against Sungjin’s arms, motioning with his head toward the girl.

“Isn’t that the girl you have a crush on?”

Sungjin isn’t very subtle when he looks over, humming under his breath. “What about it?”

Full stop with scratch record because Younghyun needs to voice out his admiration for Sungjin for a minute.

Where Younghyun is the blushing virgin that fails at existing when his crush is close to him, Sungjin is the type of man people believe Younghyun actually is. Cool, calm and collected. Not broody, though. Sungjin is very clear on what he likes even without expressing it. Ask him if he has a crush on a girl and he will tell you the name. Sungjin is straight forward with some no-nonsense attitude that Younghyun very much envious him for.

At least, he is as much of a dork as Younghyun when it comes to confessions. Sungjin just doesn’t confess (but if a girl asks him if he likes her back, he says either yes or no as if it isn’t something worth to be shy about). A lone cowboy with a big heart is what Younghyun likes to paint him as, someone who cares so deeply for the people he likes that he resorts to nagging and caring from afar.

A contradiction, really. A man who voices his feelings without a thought but doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve.

Okay, back to the scene.

“You wanna go over and say hi?”

Sungjin’s gaze wanders from the girls back to Younghyun, cocking his eyebrow. “Why should I? They are staring at you and not me.”

And Sungjin’s right. As soon as Younghyun looks back to the girls, they instantly turn away and giggle. Oh, that’s… something?

“I’m not interested in her, you know?” Younghyun hastily tries to explain in case his friend is mad at him for that. Younghyun would never make a move on someone his friend liked first.

“I know.” Sungjin bumps their shoulders together, chuckling. “You’re already head over heels for our teacher.”

That Younghyun is. His cheeks blush again, how else should it be, and the girls’ giggling intensifies. They probably think that he is blushing because of them and not because of their teacher. And who is Younghyun to take away that illusion?

The line moves forward a bit, everyone shuffling their bit, but it’s still long because somehow everyone wants to try out that snack.

“Imma head for the loo. Get one for me too in case I’m not back until then?”

Younghyun nods in agreement and Sungjin’s gone. The smell of delicious food wafts over to him and his stomach grumbles in hunger even though he already had a few good servings of Korean street food. Just the thought of eating those heavenly dishes makes his stomach a bottomless black hole.

However, Younghyun’s solitude doesn’t last for too long as suddenly the girl from before walks up to him, beaming with a polite smile and pretty blush on her cheeks.

“You are Kang Younghyun from the class above me, right?” Younghyun only shrugs in answer. “I’m Nayeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Nayeon,” Younghyun smiles at her out of politeness. With Sungjin’s absence, he feels a tad uncomfortable about their conversation, fully aware of her motivation to talk to him.

“You like Takoyaki?” She asks innocently enough as if trying to make a friend. Younghyun can work with that.

“Sure. You?”

“Ah, I haven’t eaten them before.” She looks up to him again, gaining more confidence with every sentence. “But I want to try.”

Younghyun hums, feeling awkward. What should he say? Small talk isn’t his forte exactly. Thankfully, Nayeon rescues him from finding a new topic.

“I heard you’re playing later?” She beams when Younghyun agrees. “I’m so excited! I once overheard your practice and it was so good. Oppa, you really have a talent for music.”

Younghyun tries not to startle too hard at the sudden familiarity she talks in. Nayeon progresses fast, how does she do that? He sometimes can’t get himself to call Jae ‘Jae’ in front of him instead of ‘teacher Park’ (but he has to call him ‘teacher Park’, otherwise people will get mad at him for disrespecting Jae).

“T-Thank you…”

The line moves forward. Where is Sungjin when you need him? That would be his moment to win over Nayeon’s heart and protect Younghyun from all of that—can this even be considered flirting? Younghyun doesn’t know, he is bad at flirting.

“How long have you been playing the guitar?” Nayeon asks with genuine curiosity.

“Over ten years, I guess.”

“And you play the bass, too?”

“Yes.”

“Can you play other instruments, too?”

“The piano a bit.”

“So cool, oppa! And you write the lyrics yourself?”

Someone kill him!

“Yes.”

“Where did you learn this from?”

Sooner than later, please. This is so awkward.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, then you are talented in writing? Wow~”

“I guess…”

“Where do you get your inspiration from?”

“Everywhere, I think?”

“Possibly from—”

“Ah, I know this face!”

Not once in his life has Younghyun been this relieved and happy to see teacher Park jumping into their view with that familiar smile. Younghyun is always happy to see his teacher but now? Now he is like an angel descending from heaven to save him from all the flirting he doesn’t want to do.

Wait.

That means teacher Park saw someone flirting with him.

God. What must he think about Younghyun now?!

“Teacher Park,” Nayeon greets him with a light bow while Younghyun is rooted in his spot.

Because he’s having another realization.

Younghyun doesn’t wear his school uniform which means teacher Park isn’t obligated to wear those stiff shirts and slacks right now. Sure, Younghyun knows him in casual clothes from all his visits in the bakery, but they mostly consisted of sweatpants and sport shorts. Now however, teacher Park is wearing really tight jeans and a shirt that shows too much collarbones. Younghyun hasn’t seen so much collarbone from his teacher before. His brain is frying. Send help!

“You two waiting for the Takoyaki?” Teacher Park asks while munching on his own serving (oh god, he's been standing in the same line as his teacher and hadn’t known!).

Nayeon nods enthusiastically. “I’ve never had one before.”

Just then Younghyun notices that his teacher has been looking at him the whole time, regarding him with that same gaze he always wears when he thinks he sees something in Younghyun, a secret to unravel that is no secret for Jae at all.

A gaze that vanishes as soon as Younghyun realizes it, swapped for a gentle smile.

“Nayeon, do you mind if I take Younghyun with me for a minute? There’s something I want to talk about with him.”

No one glances at them twice. There is the occasional greeting, the occasional bow and sometimes the occasional wonder as people pass by them, eating their dishes (teacher Park buys him ice cream in a waffle as a compensation for taking him out of the line). Not one word has fallen between them so far, both tending to their ice cream while mulling over their thoughts.

At least, Younghyun does.

By now, it feels familiar to the silent moents with his teacher before the latter starts a gentle conversation that will always knock Younghyun out of his shoes. Younghyun is aware of his soaring heart, aware that this might be one of those conversation again.

“Sorry if I meddled with whatever happened there, but you looked so awkward next to her. It was painful to watch,” teacher Park eventually explains as he chugs the paper with a perfect toss into the next bin. A former basketballer indeed.

Younghyun shakes his head to get rid of the mental image and responses to his teacher, “It’s alright. It was awkward. I didn’t know what to do.”

“No wonder girls are swooning for you when you walk around dressed like that.” The compliment feels warm, not warm enough to make him a stumbling mess, but still warm.

“I don’t want them to swoon, though.” Younghyun is daring. He won’t confess, don’t worry about that, confessing is still far away on his list. But he has to impress his teacher, surprise him once again.

“You don’t?” Younghyun shakes his head again. “Because you already have someone special on your mind?”

Younghyun is glad that he's already finished his ice cream as he starts to crumble the paper between his restless hands. This comes close to a confession, Younghyun knows. He can feel it in his every bone as they thrum in nervous excitement. Maybe he can give Jae a glimpse into his feelings. A small glimpse, nothing harmful that will give away everything.

“Maybe.”

But he hasn’t anticipated the way Jae starts laughing, a rumble that spills out of his throat like something soft and warm, like the sun dipping down on the horizon and dunking the cold ocean into oranges and reds.

“Is that the reason why you don’t pay much attention during class?” Younghyun stays silent despite the obvious question in there. Jae takes it as an answer, nonetheless. “Ah, you shouldn’t let some girl interfere with school. It’s your future, you know?”

He clutches the paper harder between his fingers. His throat feels dry as he croaks a simple admission that can go wrong in so many ways. Younghyun is dumb, okay, but Younghyun also likes to take opportunities. And this is an opportunity. One that makes his heart race in fear and his body nearly snapping tension, but he has to.

“It’s not a girl.”

Skip a small stone into water and small waves will glide along the surface, granting a small glimpse into what lies beneath. Those waves fade out the further away they get, the sea calm once again. But sometimes waves don’t remain like that, they get bigger with each mile they leave behind until they break at the shore, having found the place where they can finally rest.

A storm causes the tides to roar, its agony and wallow drowning in the darkness of the ocean. The beach is calm, the beach is the destination, but during a storm not even the beach can keep the waves at bay.

Park Jaehyung is like the beach, calm and warm, greeting the waves with a sunny smile, shining as bright as the sun.

But what does it make Younghyun?

The silence around them feels like a storm brewing, one that Younghyun won’t survive if it causes waves that not even the beach can stop. His heart is caught in such a wave, at the verge of breaking or soaring, depending of what may follow.

Just then Younghyun wishes very much to cry, albeit his pride only lets his eyes glaze over, hiding his face between his knees in his attempt to make him as small as possible.

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say here, Younghyun.”

A surprised gasp nearly leaves his throat as Jae threads his fingers through Younghyun’s hair, comforting him like a small child that spilled all the trouble it had caused. Younghyun’s heart soars but not so much with the grounding realization that this man holds the key to his heart between his fingers and is completely unaware of that.

Jae only sees the boundaries of a society that Younghyun hates with all of his heart, all those people hating on those who love differently, who love people they shouldn’t.

Younghyun isn’t a child anymore. And suddenly Younghyun realizes, he doesn’t have to impress his teacher. He has to prove himself. Surprise him again and again until he sees Younghyun on equal terms, as a man that loves another man. Fuck boundaries, fuck that Jae is his teacher, fuck that Jae is a man. Younghyun loves him too much to think about others’ opinions.

“If the wrong people hear it, they won’t be as nice as me. We live in a world where people won’t accept that people like us exist.”

_Like us._

Younghyun slowly raises his head, watches Jae’s face looking at something that is too far away, a gleam in his eye that Younghyun can’t get ahold of, something so vulnerable that it will shatter once you touch it.

He is afraid.

Of what?

Younghyun can’t put his finger on it. Only watch in awe the man in front of him.

“Don’t worry.” Jae chuckles once again to dissipate the tension with a teasing smile that is so gentle and wise at the same time. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, alright?”

The hand vanishes from Younghyun’s head, where once has been warmth only coldness is left.

“Thank you,” Younghyun whispers into the silence, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. “Thank you.” Thankful that Jae doesn’t bother to answer and just lets the feelings rest where they are.

~~~

“Younghyun-ah, where have you been?”

Younghyun plucks the string of his guitar once again, a dull sound without the amplifier, a light pain against his fingers. After his conversation with teacher Park he went behind the stage to go through the chords in his head, a small rehearsal only for himself, so that everything will go as perfect as possible. He has someone out there who will be watching him (that isn’t his mother) and Younghyun wants to impress him. Surprise. Prove.

And he changed something for that sake.

“Something came up,” Younghyun shrugs off a worried Sungjin at the same time as Dowoon looks at the playlist and makes big eyes.

“You changed the complete set list?!”

Younghyun’s three friends instantly gather around that paper, go through song and song, and notice the lack of many ballads and the introduction of a lot of their faster ones.

Sungjin throws Younghyun a surprised gaze. “You want to start with ‘So cool’?”

“Yup.”

“Oh. My. God!” Wonpil rips the paper from Dowoon’s fingers, pointing on one of the things directly in front of Younghyun’s face. “You’ve put ‘Hunt’ and ‘Blood’ on it?!”

“Oh! Hyung’s going to go all out,” Dowoon marvels at the boldness of their new setlist.

Younghyun, still plucking his guitar, only shrugs again. “Sungjin did say that we’re setting sad vibes otherwise.”

The sigh that comes from Sungjin’s lips is loud enough to catch everyone’s attention.

“He's met the goddamn teacher again.”

~~~

What is the best part of playing in front of a crowd? The cheers from people whose faces you haven’t seen before but they still know about you? The admiration that gleams in the audience’s eyes? When everyone starts to dance and sing along to their songs even though they don’t know the lyrics? The end where everyone congratulates for the show and wants to hear even more? Or the beginning where you watch over the crowd with all those butterflies in your belly, an indescribable excitement thrumming through your veins and shaking you up in every good way?

For Younghyun, it’s everything. From the beginning to the end, Younghyun loves every part of it and he enjoys it to the fullest. On the stage is when his confidence peaks, on the stage is where Younghyun feels invincible, ready to plug off every star from the sky in hopes of catching the one he longs for the most.

It’s like flicking a switch. He is jittery in one moment and the next he is striding up on that stage together with his bandmates, his best friends, smiling at each other before setting their face into something more unreachable, something cooler than before.

Younghyun quickly changes his hairstyle minutes before the start; goes to the bathroom and wets his bangs to let them fall into his eyes, drops running along his cheeks. Younghyun doesn’t want to be a normal schoolboy anymore, he wants to be a man that is desired by everyone.

He schools his face into something cold and attractive, just like on those fashion magazines or Instagram.

The principal announces their name and gig, Sungjin introduces the band, and Younghyun searches the crowd for just one man. He finds his mother who is waving around her camera to find the best spot to make videos that she will then send to every friend, just to show off how cool her son plays and how proud she is. He sees Nayeon standing nearly in front of the stage, clapping happily her hands against each other with obvious heart-eyes, but where is—

Younghyun shifts the guitar in his hand to hide the fact that he is searching for someone -- for his teacher who has promised to be in the crowd. Blond hair shouldn’t be that hard to catch in the middle of a lot of black, yet Younghyun has some difficulty in spotting him.

Sungjin looks back to his members to check if they are ready and catches Younghyun’s eyes for a second, flickers them off to the side and back. A signal. Younghyun cautiously lets his gaze sweep through the crowd only then to look to the side and—

It's the smile that does it to Younghyun. A smile that speaks of encouragement and support, that whispers promises of showing him the beauty of a world Younghyun wishes to dive into.

Park Jaehyung is standing at the side of the stage, throwing Younghyun a smile and a thumbs up, clapping along with the crowd when Sungjin announces their first song. Younghyun wants to keep the illusion that Jae’s eyes are only on him and him alone.

Younghyun wants to impress him.

Younghyun wants to surprise him.

Younghyun wants to prove himself.

And they start playing.

The crowd cheers loudly even with the first tone, Dowoon’s drums piercing through the air and setting the rhythm of a very catchy bob. Wonpil’s voice sets in high and melodious whereas Sungjin’s raspy sounds turn every head to them.

Younghyun watches them, sees the gleaming eyes, the bright smiles on people’s faces, and then comes his part. He heaves his head lightly to look down along his nose, his eyes half-lidded to seduce everyone, but then he looks to the side to catch his teacher’s eyes while he sings,

“I will make you just love me; you may not be able to close your pretty lips.”

And he closes his eyes for the rest of the song, his heart beating high in his chest when he saw his teacher grinning cheekily at him.

Younghyun is fucked.

So much.

~~~

It’s over within a flash. Younghyun tends to lose himself during the sets, fully immersed in his element of playing, switching instruments just to show off his many talents, flirting with the crowd (and not his teacher, that’d be too obvious), jumping, dancing, singing, feeling.

His shirt sticks to his back as he walks down the stage, his bass hanging around his aching shoulders, his breath coming a bit short at the still thrumming excitement in his veins. Sungjin pats against his neck to congratulate for a good show before he proceeds to do so to Wonpil and Dowoon, too.

Younghyun is chugging down a whole bottle of water in one go when his mother suddenly storms in and hugs him to her chest, gushing over how proud she is, how much her little boy has grown.

“Mom,” Younghyun pleads in embarrassment but ultimately laughs when he presses her hard against his form, resting her head onto his with a bright smile on his lips. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, my son!” She swats against his arm, trying to keep those tears at bay as she sniffles the whole time, then takes off that goddamn bass from his shoulders. “I’ve already sent the video to grandma and halmeoni and your ahjussi and my friend from the flower shop next to the bakery.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

She hits him again, pressing another water bottle into his hand that she magically procured out of nowhere and that even with his bass hanging over her own shoulder. “How else can they show off that you are such a rock star?”

“I’m not a rock star.”

“Mine you are, Younghyunnie. Your mom is very proud of you.”

Younghyun then hugs her deeply again, burying his face into her hair to keep that moment for a bit longer. His chest feels warm, so warm for a different reason it does at other times, but now Younghyun is just content to let it linger there for a moment.

There is this question that lies on his tongue, a question he knows he shouldn’t ask because his mother would be hurt, but it feels heavy on there, a certain fear latching onto.

“Do you think dad—”

“There is someone waiting for you outside.” His mother palms his cheeks, looking up to him with so much fondness in her eyes that it chokes Younghyun to tears and makes him regret to ever wanting to ask that question.

Instead, he looks curiously over his shoulder to see no one there, turning back to his mother in confusion.

“I said outside, you dummy.” She flicks him on the forehead and somehow, everything is good again. No sadness, no tension, nothing. Only his mother being herself again and sending Younghyun off to fetch whoever is standing outside.

He presses a lingering kiss against his mother’s cheek before he runs off, his heart fluttering in excitement of whoever is waiting for him. Younghyun has hope, Younghyun has—

“Oh, Nayeon.”

Nayeon shuffles in her spot, her cheeks red and a smile so warm. It’s a sight that somehow reminds Younghyun of himself, shy and so taken in by his crush. His heart falls at the thought of what is about to happen.

“You were playing really good, oppa.” A compliment that comes from heart, a compliment that Younghyun is hesitant to accept.

Maybe he should handle it like a band-aid, ripping it off to make it less painful.

“Nayeon—”

“I really like you, Kang Younghyun.” She looks up to him with so much determination on her face that Younghyun starts to admire. She is pretty, hell, she is beautiful in every sense. No wonder that Sungjin has a crush on her. Life is unfair, isn’t it?

“Nayeon—”

“And before you say anything, please listen, okay?” She waits for Younghyun to nod, for him to understand what she is asking for. “I know that you won’t reciprocate my feelings. I saw you looking for someone else in the crowd. You sung to someone who wasn’t me. I know that you don’t like me as much as I like you but… I just wanted to tell you. So, I can move on.”

It feels like having tons of bricks falling onto you, being confronted with such sentiment that Younghyun can’t grasp where it comes from. He’s had only one conversation with her before, and that conversation was awkward as hell. For Younghyun, her crush was only something that existed within the span of a few hours and for it to develop into something so deep?

A story that Younghyun will never know lingers behind it, a story that makes Nayeon say she sees him, but he hasn’t ever seen her. She must have been sad for a while, Younghyun realizes. A heart that has suffered for so long without him ever perceiving it as such.

She wants to move on when for Younghyun it hasn’t even started.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing that Younghyun can say because in the end, it doesn’t matter. Nothing he can say is able to ease her pain. “I’m sorry.”

Nayeon shakes her head, smiling even though a tear runs down on her cheek. She bows her head for him and then leaves, her hair fluttering in the warm summer breeze that has long replaced the sweet smell of spring.

“Love can be as beautiful as it can be painful. You are the most vulnerable in the face of love.”

Younghyun whips his head around to see his teacher leaning against the wall in the darkness, looking after Nayeon’s retreating back with that far-away look in his eyes again.

“Teacher-nim, how long have you been standing there?”

Teacher Park pushes off the wall and walks to Younghyun, keeping some distant as he stops and rests his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve come to tell you how impressed I am.” Younghyun thinks he sees the stars mirrored in teacher Park’s eyes. “You guys really rocked that stage.”

His own eyes mirror teacher Park’s expression as his face lights up, unbelievably happy about the compliment he has just received. “I’m happy that you liked it.”

_I played for you up there._

“Not only me, the whole crowd was dancing and singing along. You did a good job, really. You have a promising future ahead of you if you decide to pursue music.”

_And what if I want to pursue something else instead?_

“You inspired me,” Younghyun blurts instead. It may be a bit better than his initial thought, but still embarrassing. Younghyun backtracks immediately. “I mean, your playing on that day during detention? It inspired me to write a few songs.” Not a complete lie. Well done, Younghyun.

Teacher Park cocks his head and there is a sudden light in his eyes that Younghyun has never seen before. Younghyun wants to keep that light there forever. “I’m glad then. Never thought that I’m going to be the inspiration of a future rock star.”

And if teacher Park says that he can be a rock star in the future, then maybe Younghyun really can. He only needs to hear those words and Younghyun would be ready to fight the world for anything.

He wants to dare. Adults risk things, right? So, Younghyun leans forward. looks up, smiles and says, “Then you’ll have to keep playing for me.”

Jae throws his head back in laughter, his eyes crinkling and his whole face lighting up so pretty.

A moment that Younghyun will never forget as it is saved in his mind like a small photograph that keeps his chest warm for all the time.

~~~

(“Who was that girl waiting for you?”

“No one, eomma. Just a classmate who wanted to congratulate me.”

“She was cute.”

“Not happening, eomma.”

“I mean, she's your age, a girl, a very pretty one…”

“Eomma, stop it please.”

“But Younghyunnie, when do you stop crushing on that teacher?”

“Mom!”

“I’m only saying! Jae is too old for you. And he is your teacher. People will talk!”

“…People will talk nonetheless…”

“What was it?”

“Nothing, mom.”)


	4. Step 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the angst!

_Step 4: ~~Keep him happy~~ Prove that you are a man_

Younghyun imagined summer vacation to be perfect for spending more time doing anything that isn’t school. He had this whole plan of asking his teacher if he wanted to jam with him a few times, maybe even help him for the preparations of the upcoming math competition in fall.

In the end… well…

(“You’re going home during vacation?”

Jae nods with a bright grin on his face, some crumbs sticking to the corner of his mouth. “If I’m not busy with schoolwork and such, then I’m leaving this continent as soon as possible. I have friends that miss me too much.” Then, he winks to Younghyun’s eavesdropping mother who, at this point, probably has fallen in love with Jae too, if her swooning is any proof for that.

Jae is flirting too much with his mother and too less with Younghyun.

It can’t be that he is jealous of his mother, right?

Right?!)

Next idea. Younghyun had really counted on that glow-up that some people experience after not seeing each other for weeks. Something like Younghyun getting taller, getting more handsome, getting defined features and a better toned body.

Needless to say, no such thing happened. Younghyun maybe looks a bit chubbier thanks to his frustrated cookie munching since he was deprived of his nearly daily dosage of Jae. His mother tried to reassure him that Younghyun looks more mature than before, but somehow Younghyun doubts that. Who knows why, maybe because it’s his mother and mothers are obligated to tell those things to their sons.

Anyway, Younghyun nearly falls out of his chair once he sees Wonpil and Dowoon for the first time after they have been away with their families respectively. At least Sungjin had visited him on the free days they had, so Sungjin’s glow-up isn’t that noticeable to him (if there has been any, maybe his hair got a bit lighter and shorter?????).

But holy sh—, Younghyun can’t stop staring at Dowoon and Wonpil. Wonpil has finally let his hair grow a bit longer so that it falls in waves over his forehead, while Dowoon just looks older. Like, less baby and more adult since a big chunk of his baby fat has melted off his face.

Younghyun instantly asks them where they have been and how quickly Younghyun can get this adult magic shit, too.

“But Younghyun-hyung, you look so much more handsome than before!” Dowoon exclaims shyly to deflect Younghyun’s fussing over his looks.

“I do?”

“He does?”

Wonpil hits Sungjin’s head when he sees Younghyun’s face falling at Sungjin’s doubtful response. “Don’t listen to him. You look much more mature than before. Teacher Park will surely fall off his chair once he sees you.”

Younghyun tries to hide his wide grin by looking down to his shoes, swatting in the direction where he thinks Wonpil might be.

“Yah, stop hitting me! I swear to god!”

Oh, that might have been Sungjin he hit. Welp, it’s nothing he doesn’t deserve, right?

“Did you spend more time with teacher Park?” Wonpil asks, perfectly out of reach.

Younghyun groans, sliding down in his seat. “Nooooo. Did you forget, he went back home to America…”

Dowoon, however, seems to perk up at that. “But hyung, this means that he’ll notice your glow up, right?”

Right. Why Younghyun hasn’t thought about that before? Jae hasn’t seen him for weeks, so surely, Younghyun must have some effect on him. He almost immediately slides up on his chair, sitting ramrod straight with a newfound gleam in his face.

Much to Sungjin’s chagrin. “Dowoon, don’t you have class, like, right now?”

“Oh. Right!” And there he goes, speeding through the halls of the school while all of Younghyun’s classmates look after him and the dust trail he leaves.

And in his wake, Younghyun hasn’t noticed the man that had slipped into the room without much noise. Because suddenly, his teacher stands in front of the class and steals Younghyun’s breath all over again. Which deity does Younghyun have to kiss for this image?

Younghyun and his friends aren’t the only one who have changed over vacation. No, teacher Park has gotten so much prettier than the last time Younghyun had seen him.

Blond hair is suddenly a deep red that nearly looks black depending on how the light hits him, strands falling into those deep, black eyes and a lightly more tanned skin tone that is still very much fair.

No one could have readied him for the sight that catches him in a trance and very much off-guard. Not once has Younghyun seen the sea in summer but somehow, he feels like he finally got another taste of the beach, of warmth and summer and kisses of the sun.

“I hope you all had some nice weeks off from school,” teacher Park starts the lesson and yet, Younghyun doesn’t hear a thing, not when that voice touches the surface gently as not to stir any waves, smooth and soft, pulling Younghyun deeper into it.

Maybe Wonpil says something to him, maybe Sungjin throws him a glance over the shoulder, but Younghyun doesn’t notice. Not when something so beautiful lies in front of him.

And just like that, the lecture flies by while Younghyun only stares straight forward, directly into the face of the man that holds his heart between his fingers together with the key into it. The clock ticks down and suddenly, people are moving and Younghyun only wakes up when someone accidentally shoves him in his seat.

His books fall to the floor with a loud thud and Younghyun hits his chin against the desk, nothing that is new to him. The hand that suddenly collects his books and holds them out for him, however, is actually something new.

Younghyun’s eyes follow the arm up to the body until he reaches the face of one smiling teacher Park. Younghyun falls backwards off his chair.

“Man, some things will never change, huh?” His teacher chuckles amusedly as he reaches out his hand for Younghyun to take. Younghyun stares too long at that before he realizes what it is there for.

“I—I—you just scared me.”

Teacher Park’s hand is warm in his, calloused and still so soft. Younghyun wishes he would never have to let go of it again.

“Well, anyone can scare you that easily if you space out during class.” He knocks playfully against Younghyun’s head, tries to scowl at him like a teacher has to. Younghyun thinks it endearing. “Haven’t I told you to stop spacing out so much? The math club still needs your genius to win the competition.”

Younghyun slowly wills his lips into smile. “I thought Jeongin is the genius of the club.”

Jae chuckles in response, his shoulders lightly shaking while another few strands of hair fall into his eyes. Younghyun wants to push them up. “He is, but what is wrong with having two of them?”

During summer Younghyun had a lot of time to think — about things like his plan, things like his behavior, things like his appearance. He made a few corrections in his notebook, reflected on vital parts of himself that may look a bit childish to other, and waited for the glow up. The latter has obviously failed but hey, Younghyun has still very much control over the other two things.

That being said, Nayeon’s confession gave him much thought on how he wants to approach certain situations differently. This means, embracing the blush that grows on his cheeks and just smile it away (at least when it comes to Jae. His friends don’t have to see him looking so red in the face at the smallest compliment).

Hence why Younghyun now smiles as wide as possible so that his cheeks push his eyes into crescents, dusted with that redness that creeps up on his neck at the compliment, but looking happy about it instead of being embarrassed.

“I've always known how much of a genius I am, but thanks for confirming, teacher-nim!”

And when Jae does that thing where he throws his head into his neck and laughs freely, Younghyun knows that he did the right thing.

“I see. You’ve gotten cocky over the summer. Did it come with the face?”

“The face?”

“Yeah, you look…” Jae trails off, motioning with his finger around Younghyun’s face. “More mature, I guess.”

And aren’t those the words Younghyun has hoped for so much? Fuck his newfound courage of showing his blushes, Younghyun has to duck down his head so that his teacher doesn’t see the dumb grin growing on Younghyun’s face.

“But still the same old Younghyun, I see.”

If only that man knew what his simple words do to Younghyun.

~~~

“Dumb question: How do you keep someone happy?” Younghyun throws the small ball to Sungjin, watching as it flies in a high curve to the older. Sungjin catches it without a problem, halting then.

“Depends on what happiness means to them.” Sungjin throws back, a simple movement of his shoulder that shows off the muscles in his arm.

Younghyun grimaces as the ball lands hard in his hand. “What if I can’t ask them?”

The ball flies back to Sungjin. “Why shouldn’t you?”

And back to Younghyun. “Well… you know about whom I’m talking…”

Sungjin catches it easily. “I don’t see the problem, though. You both are familiar enough to talk about the topic. He will assume you ask because you are searching that answer for yourself.”

Younghyun doesn’t reach out to catch the ball. It lands somewhere next to him, rolling off into the grass next to their sports place. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Of course. It’s from me.”

And thus, Younghyun’s many tries of asking his teacher about happiness may start.

(And Younghyun doesn’t listen when Sungjin says, “Don’t let frustration get to you.”)

_Try 1_

Laden with a new batch of biscuits, Younghyun waits for Jae to enter the café on this slow Saturday noon. He taps his pen against the counter, cleans the windows, reads his newest acquired manga, actually learns something for the upcoming math competition, throws a ball against the wall back and forth, eats some of the cookies his mother made too many of, watches the clock tick down seconds until it is eventually two in the afternoon.

Maybe he doesn’t come in today, Younghyun sighs as he scribbles down the answer of the question on his sheet. He is so immersed in writing, that the sudden shadow hovering over him startles him, and Younghyun cries in surprise.

“The answer’s wrong,” Jae points to the last line on his sheet, dragging his finger up to another part of calculation. “You forgot to write the brackets around this part.”

Younghyun checks his paper and yes, how else should it be than Jae being right about Younghyun’s mistakes. He is his math teacher after all.

“Oh, thanks.”

Jae gives him a smile that doesn’t throw Younghyun off as much as in the beginning (doesn’t mean that the butterflies won’t flutter in his stomach, he only got used to them). “I’m glad to see that you're studying for the competition. Jeongin will never stop thanking you if you guys win.”

But it isn’t Jeongin who should never stop thanking Younghyun, the younger thinks with a pout. However, Younghyun knows an opportunity when he sees one and Jae has just given him the perfect opportunity for his question.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

Curious, Jae leans up from the display to look Younghyun into the eye with risen eyebrows, a silent prompt. Younghyun nods before he starts to talk—

“Jae-yah! I haven’t seen you in so long!”

His mother suddenly hurries over to give Jae one of her bear hugs that Younghyun feels too embarrassed to see because who even gave her the permission to hug Jae like that? He certainly hasn’t!

“M-Mom!”

And just like that, Younghyun’s opportunity flies off through the window as his mother doesn’t stop shuffling around his teacher. (He has the gnawing suspicion that his mother staged this to prevent Younghyun from confessing his feelings. Which he wasn’t about to do. Fuck life.)

_Try 2_

This time it’s after class that Younghyun waits for the other students to filter out the room, the biscuits his teacher had forgotten in the bakery held tight between his fingers. Younghyun senses a déjà-vu but forgets about it soon enough as there is one student of his class talking to the teacher.

For minutes.

And then some more.

And then his teacher starts to explain things on the board.

Younghyun curses Jae’s big heart to help out his students and leaves the room without ever being noticed by the one man that matters the most.

_Try 3_

Younghyun is determined to ask him that question this time. There is no better place than the club room. They do math, they have fun, their teacher is sitting in the back, reading a book and listening in with his other ear.

Right after the club ends, Younghyun will ask him. He has biscuits, he has determination, he has a plan, the one thing left is opportunity. If fate doesn’t gift you one, then Younghyun will create one for himself.

The clock slowly advances toward the end of their club, tick tack, Younghyun feels like snapping his pen in half. Jeongin glances to him from time to time as he notices the tension in Younghyun’s shoulders.

“Is everything alright, hyung?” Younghyun first doesn’t hear Jeongin’s question, only once his teacher turns his head and Younghyun flees his gaze, he sees the question written on the younger’s face.

“What was it again?”

Jeongin frowns lightly, cocking his head to the side. “You seem nervous.” No fucking shit, of course Younghyun is nervous. Younghyun being nervous isn’t anything new, it’s actually his usual state.

He shrugs instead. “Have a lot on my mind.”

The good part of being the oldest in the room (except for his teacher) is that the younger let him be if he brushes them off. Cool and broody Younghyun, that’s what he wants to be.

“Let’s go over this task again.”

And soon, the hour goes by a lot faster than before, yet the stare on Younghyun’s face never wavers. His cheeks blush as Younghyun realizes that it must be his teacher who is doing so, and his fingers are back at nearly splitting his pen into two halves.

Club is finished, the students flittering out and when Younghyun looks up to seek out his teacher—he’s gone. Younghyun slumps back in his chair, sighing again at the cruel hands of fate messing with his plan once again.

If Younghyun feels down, there is one thing he does to cheer himself up. Today is one of those days where he and his friends aren’t practicing, and usually, Younghyun uses this time to write lyrics on his guitar in the abandoned practice room that their music teacher had once given them access to.

He wanders down the hallway to seek out the room, to play off his frustrations on his guitar, when he suddenly sees a familiar scene in front of him with a young boy being pushed into the wall by three stronger and older ones, terrorizing him.

Younghyun is frustrated. Younghyun is angry. So, he only balls up his fists and calmly walks towards the bullies. No one notices his arrival, only once he grabs one of them and punches him straight into the face.

A familiar scene. A familiar face. And yet the one person Younghyun’s longs for the most never comes to take care of his hurting hand.

“You will regret this,” one of the bullies spits as he flees with his friends, all of them showing him the bird that Younghyun ignores in favor of accessing Jeongin for any wounds.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me?” Younghyun chides him kindly as he collects all of Jeongin’s books and papers in the dark hallway.

Jeongin looks up to him with a certain gaze, one that tucks at Younghyun’s heartstrings as it feels so familiar, their fingers touching where Jeongin takes the books from his hands.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Jeongin confesses with his gaze suddenly turning down, his body curling around the books pressed against his chest as if he is protecting himself from that world outside.

Younghyun does the only thing that he thinks is right, a touch that had filled him with so much warmth before and that Younghyun can hopefully imitate. His hand reaches out to card through Jeongin’s hair, calming down his tears that he is spilling into the darkness of this hallway.

“You’ll never bother me with this. You don’t deserve people being mean like that only because you are different.”

A sentiment that is growing inside Younghyun. A small seed that has yet to grow roots, that has the ability to bloom into a full flower even though it is drowned by an entire ocean, raging in a storm.

“Do you really believe that?” Jeongin whispers into the darkness, his voice as lost as Younghyun feels inside the storm, longing for the sun and the beach.

And Younghyun, never one to lie when it comes to matters of the heart, stays silent for as long as Jeongin needs him by his side.

In the end, he strums the chords of his guitar half-heartedly, giving up after the fifth messed up chord and throwing his book into the next corner with a sharp yell.

And Younghyun stops trying to pose his question to Jae after that.

~~~

During that whole week Younghyun feels off. The small incident with Jeongin threw him in for a loop. It hangs between them like a knife over their heads and makes math club less fun than it was before. The tension is surrounding Younghyun like a shadow clinging to him, expressing itself in Younghyun’s bad moods over the next few days.

His moods change swiftly between frustration, anger and melancholy. At least his friends know him good enough to leave him be, used to the depressing times Younghyun sometimes seems to go through.

Younghyun feels like snapping every moment. Something tugs at him, something wants to be let out, but he doesn’t know what. It isn’t like anything will ever change. Nothing ever changes much. Younghyun hasn’t changed over summer and his progress with his teacher is going null.

Everything comes to a head when Younghyun and his friends open their practice room during lunch to find chaos within. Every furniture has been thrown around and set upside down, the keyboard barely hanging on its stand, Sungjin’s acoustic guitar with no string intact, the drums pierced through with the legs of chairs and tables, and the worst of them, Younghyun’s own guitar.

“Fucking hell!” Sungjin shouts in disbelief as they all run into the room to assess the mess, checking their instruments and searching for a sign of who the intruder might have been.

Their voices are drowning out as Younghyun enters the room slowly, kneeling in front of his in two halves snapped guitar. His hands shake as his fingers touch the splintered wood, the pain barely there when he cuts his palm.

His guitar is broken, that shiny object that means so much to him, broken as if it’s anything valuable.

“We should report it to the principal,” Dowoon whispers into the silence, his voice breaking when he finds his broken sticks.

Sungjin agrees, then adds with a dangerous undertone, “I swear to god, if I ever find who did this, they’ll regret this.”

_You’ll regret this._

Younghyun wants to laugh. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time and maybe then throw someone over a cliff.

“Younghyun-hyung?” Wonpil breaks through Sungjin and Dowoon’s heated discussion about whether revenge is good or not when he sees Younghyun standing up and leaving the room.

It’s raining today, how cliched.

He walks calmly through the cafeteria to search for someone, walking up to Jeongin when he sees the younger eating lunch with whomever, Younghyun doesn’t care at all.

“Jeongin.” Jeongin’s head whips up at the blank tone Younghyun speaks with, his eyes widening when he takes in the shadow on Younghyun’s face and his band members stumbling into the room behind him. “Where are they?”

“Who are—”

“You know who I’m talking about. Where are they?”

Jeongin flinches back at the sharp tone, grabbing his plate hard. “They usually sit outside by the fences—”

He can’t even finish his sentence before Younghyun runs off to the exact spot Jeongin has vaguely described.

Something is seething inside him. Something has snapped. Younghyun only wants to let out everything.

And no one dares to destroy his fucking guitar.

The bullies that Younghyun has only seen in miserable lights start to holler when they see Younghyun walking up to them. They don’t run this time, though, only sneer at him when Younghyun stops a good distance away.

“Look who has come.” One of them laughs to the other, pointing rudely to Younghyun’s drenching form. Their umbrellas hover darkly over them as if they do much to shield them from the rain.

“Did you mess up our practice room?”

A simple question. They all deny it, but with the smirk on their lips it is clear that they are the culprits. Younghyun takes a deep breath as his mind procures images of his friends lighting up in happiness as they play on the instruments. As his own heart remembers the last time someone has played with Younghyun together on that guitar.

“What do you want to do about it?” The other one prompts with a cocked eyebrow, chuckles when Younghyun doesn’t move. “Thought so.”

Younghyun doesn’t hear the steps behind him nor his friends arriving as he is too busy lurching forward to tackle that guy onto the ground, punching him into the face again and again and again.

“You fucking bastard!” His fist meets the guy's cheekbone again when one of the other bullies grabs his arm, but Younghyun doesn’t have any of it. He lashes out to the other, his fist connecting with the other guy’s nose as it cracks under the power of his punch.

“You bastard had it coming,” the guy under him fletches his white teeth while the third one tugs the one with the bloody nose away once he sees someone approaching, and together they flee.

Younghyun only sees red and strikes again. And again. Cheeks, nose, his face, Younghyun doesn’t care.

“ _You_ have it coming, you piece of shit!” Younghyun curses again as someone tugs at his arm, but Younghyun only shoves him away in favor of punching again, not stopping even when he sees white teeth drenched in red. “You destroyed those instruments! Do you know how long Wonpil saved up to buy this keyboard?”

“Get off him, Younghyun-hyung!”

“Do you know how many nights Dowoon spent in there to improve, just so we can be proud at him?”

“Hyung, stop!”

“Do you know how happy Sungjin looks if he can vent out his feelings without hiding them anymore?”

“Younghyun, let it be!”

“Do you know how much they mean to us?! You are a piece of shit who is a coward to face me directly—”

“That’s enough!”

And suddenly someone is hauling him off of the still figure on the floor with so much strength in his voice that it takes Younghyun back to reality, back to see the red and swollen face of a boy unconscious on the ground, his own fingers aching and split and bleeding.

What really does him is the gaze that is usually so nice and fond suddenly isn’t such anymore, that face he promised himself to never let disappointment flash on it.

“What’s gotten into you?!” Younghyun has never heard his teacher raising his voice, has never seen Jae so angry at him. “How long do you want to keep hitting him? He’s already unconscious! You can get into prison for this!”

Younghyun trembles as Jae keeps yelling at him, his ears replacing his voice with some ringing, overwhelming him, pressing on him. The tides are roaring and Younghyun is lost within them.

“He destroyed my guitar,” Younghyun tries weakly, unaware of the tears collecting in his eyes, unaware of his heart clenching in pain. “He destroyed my guitar.”

“It’s a guitar, you can buy a new one!”

Dowoon grimaces instantly as Jae yells those words, tugging at the teacher’s sleeve to keep him back from saying things. Sungjin sees and wonders, sees Jae not noticing, sees Younghyun’s tears pooling around his eyes, and reaches forward to tug at teacher Park’s jacket, tugs him back quite forcefully as Younghyun falls onto his knees and buries his sob into his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats again and again into his hands, never stopping as his heart breaks into thousand parts.

Jae stops his rant, stops to actually look, each one of them lost for words when Younghyun breaks down like this, all except for Dowoon who is still holding Jae’s sleeve with his head ducked down, his words a piercing pain into everyone’s hearts.

“The guitar is the last thing hyung has from his dad.”

~~~

A spiral down to a place where Younghyun hasn’t been in for some time, seeing the water swapping around him underwater, watching the sun never reaching beyond the surface.

That is how Younghyun feels every day, just staring up to the ceiling in his dark bedroom after having been suspended for at least two weeks without further notice. Younghyun should be glad that the guy hadn’t called the cops on him, the principal said while Younghyun’s mother broke into tears next to him.

A disappointment, really. Not the situation, the punishment or his mother; no, Younghyun is the disappointment. Younghyun failed everyone miserably, his friends, his mother, his teachers. Especially Jae.

His teacher hadn’t been able to look him into the eye. Hadn’t been there at the office. No words left to say. Now, Younghyun can forget his crush and his secret plan. After that pitiful breakdown? No chance that Park Jaehyung would be interested in someone like him.

This isn’t drowning underwater while a storm rages outside, this is seeing the surface freezing over with no escape from the darkness and no way to reach out for the sun anymore.

His mother hadn’t only been crying, she ignored him on that first day, hit him half-heartedly on the second day, pleaded for answers on the third day, cried again on the fourth day, and eventually gave up on the fifth day when Younghyun never answered.

The same with his friends. They wrote him messages from hour to hour, then from day to day, then only now and then until they let it be because Younghyun never responds.

And teacher Park? Younghyun is afraid to know.

From day to day, Younghyun lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling, just… existing. Contemplating on life maybe, wondering where things turned the wrong way. Lingering memories of smiles and laughter of three that suddenly only consisted of two, a world dunked into beautiful snow amidst a thriving city that suddenly turned into endless fields with no flowers in sight. Winter has come and gone by, but spring has never fully arrived again.

An acoustic guitar is loud. An e-guitar even louder. Yet, Younghyun’s music has never reached its destination, gotten lost on an unknown path that Younghyun somehow wishes he could follow, but then takes it back when his mother looks so broken at every question he hurls at her, when his mother is everything left from that broken memory in his head.

Longing for what has once been lost with a lingering feeling of guilt behind a veil of misguiding illusions that he whispers into his heart every night. A child’s laughter so wholesomely beautiful, a teen’s cry so heart-wrenchingly broken beyond repair.

Six days later and his mother has enough.

“This needs to stop.” She throws a full stack of papers and books into his lap, stems her hands into her hips and starts nagging at him. “Get your shit together and start working!”

And with that she leaves, his door shutting behind her with a loud bang. In his lap, schoolwork for probably all the days he had missed and much more. Only once he smells the delicious scent of a homecooked meal does Younghyun pick up his papers and starts doing his schoolwork.

On the seventh day Younghyun’s mother drags him to the bakery. At least that way Younghyun spends his time wisely instead of rotting away in his bed and becoming something miserable and pitiful. His mother’s words, not his.

Younghyun is minding his own business at the counter, dutifully catching up on the missed schoolwork, still ignoring the missed calls and messages on his phone.

Summer is nearing its end. Leaves start to turn yellow and red, painting their streets in warm colors for such a cold season. Younghyun somehow longs for snow instead, to hide that pitiful sight of dead trees and endless fields without flowers.

The day advances to the evening without much excitement or trouble. Not many people visit the bakery and if some do, then they eye Younghyun as if he is a misbehaved animal that should be put behind bars instead of serving them their breads. People liked him good enough before, had pity with that boy that grows up without a father and a too busy mother, even though his mother tries so hard to fit in whereas Younghyun knows he never would.

This is a small town. People talk in this town. Younghyun has played on every summer festival since he and his mother moved here, and everyone knows. Younghyun put a guy into the hospital and everyone knows. Where are the consequences? Whispers and judgment from afar? Ignoring his existence so their sons and daughters will never befriend him? That poor boy who has no father?

Younghyun is sick of this town. Of those people. Of everything.

Younghyun put a guy into the hospital and everyone knows. But what they don’t know is how this guy terrorizes Jeongin on a daily basis. They don’t know how this guy destroyed every instrument just to get back at Younghyun defending a poor boy. They don’t know how his father—

The bell above the door chimes in arrival of a new customer at the same time as Younghyun starts to clean things up. The sun sets behind the houses on the other side of the street, a beautiful play of oranges, yellows and red. Younghyun is busy, packs the biscuit away, shakes off the crumbs on his hand.

“Welcome to—Oh.”

Only then he looks up and sees someone staring at him with that goddamn stare that Younghyun never knows what it means.

“Teacher Park,” Younghyun breezes as he looks into his teacher’s contemplating eyes.

There is something lingering in the air. A certain tension, not really tangible, not being meant to be named. Younghyun feels fear shaking his bones, feels love brooding in his stomach, a dangerous mixture that is able to crack ice and calm down a raging store. Beaches aren’t able to hold back a storm, but the sun may.

There is no sun found in the expression of his teacher, only the sad gaze of a man at his wit’s end.

“Younghyun.”

Teacher Park slowly steps up to the counter, under his arm a small stack of paper that goes unnoticed by Younghyun.

_Why is he here?_

Younghyun doesn’t know what to say. Should he apologize for something he barely feels guilty for? Should he plead for forgiveness as the citizen of this town would expect him to? What should he do?

His mind drives on emergency protocol. He does the only thing he knows that is appropriate for the situation.

“What can I get for you?” His own words sound so foreign to him as if being spoken by some clueless child that can’t grasp the full situation. “Unfortunately, we don’t have those rice cakes anymore, but I can quickly look in the back—”

“Younghyun.”

Younghyun quickly clicks his mouth shut at the sharp tone his teacher uses. That gaze never leaves his eyes, intense and scaring, so deep Younghyun is lost within them. An ocean to explore for him, a universe with so many stars unexplored. His fingers twitch in the urge of writing down this feeling, an unwavering gaze that knows too much.

His teacher suddenly sighs heavily and cards through his hair, ruffling it up until it falls back into his eyes messily. Younghyun wants to push them away to see that face fully.

“Look.” His teacher sets down the stack onto the counter and looks down to Younghyun once again. Suddenly, that gaze turns into something softer and warmer, something that catches Younghyun off-guard. “What you did was wrong. It was the wrongest choice you could have made, and I was really mad at that. But then I thought… I want to hear why. Why did you do that? What made you run after that guy and demolish his face like that?”

“I don’t know.” His teacher draws his eyebrows together at Younghyun’s pitiful answer. That fear of disappointing people he loves rises in Younghyun’s stomach again, so he hastily adds, “I was mad. He thinks of himself as good and all-mighty as if he has the right to take away something so precious from us and then mock our weaknesses. And I just—I couldn’t let him.”

“So, you just went and played all-mighty as if you have the right to take something precious from him?”

Younghyun startles at the truth thrown into his face. His teacher’s face is painted with so much disappointment and frustration that it breaks Younghyun’s heart into more pieces that can ever be stuck together again.

“That’s not—”

“This is exactly what you have done.” His teacher shakes his head, his frown on his lips deepening. “A life is more valuable than anything else in this world. He may have deserved to be put into his place but certainly not by you or by your fists.”

“But he went and destroyed—”

“He didn’t know.” Younghyun stills. “And I know he probably doesn’t even care about it. Just like you don’t care about him or his face. You let out your frustrations by punching him into the face, maybe this has been his let out.”

“Why are you even defending him?” At this point, Younghyun is yelling. His voice is tinged with fear and anger, frustration and desperation, why is no one listening to him? Why is no one on his side? By his side? Why is his teacher defending someone so cruel?

“I’m not defending him.”

“Surely doesn’t sound like that.”

“Younghyun!” Jae’s voice echoes through the walls of the shop with some finality to it. Just like a teacher’s voice should do. And yet, for Younghyun, this is Jae standing front of him and not his teacher. A painful realization that Younghyun doesn’t need. Not right now. “You are no better than those bully with what you did and that you don’t feel some regret only shows me that you are still a child.”

“Don’t—”

“Stop talking back to me!” Younghyun wants to cry. This is so bad. Jae is so mad at him and Younghyun only makes everything worse. “I only try to help you. I get that you are hurt, I get that this guitar means more to you than anything else, but can’t you see that you hurt more people by reacting like that? You are lucky enough as it is. If this guy had pressed charges against you, you could have said farewell to school and your life! Then your guitar would have been your last worry. What about your mother? What about your future? You would have lost everything because you are some stubborn child who refuses to see why its actions were wrong!”

A broken heart that can never be mended again. Lost in a sea whose surface has frozen over. Younghyun knows how heartbreak feels like. This is so much worse.

“That’s your schoolwork from today. Tell your mother to pick it up from now on.”

And with that Jae turns away and leaves with the bleak chime above his head. Younghyun stands there, frozen, watching that retreating figure leaving the street like a dream that is too far away to chase, a star too high to reach for.

“Your teacher is right.” His mother’s voice is so loud in the silent bakery despite of her whispering those words. Despite them being so warm. “You did something—”

But his mother never ends her sentence, not when her child turns to her with the most heart-wrenching expression on its face, eyes glazed over with those tears spilling on his cheeks and year-long sorrow peeking through a wall built on expectations and frustrations.

When Younghyun falls down to his knees, his mother is there to catch him. When Younghyun starts crying, his mother’s chest is there to lean into. When Younghyun’s starts to mourn over the loss of his heart, his mother’s is breaking with it.

No matter which words she whispers into his hair, no matter how many kisses she presses into it, no matter how many promises she makes for him, Younghyun feels lost in his life and wonders for the first time,

_What even is happiness anymore?_

~~~

_Don’t be mad at me but I sort of asked teacher Park if he brings you your schoolwork? – pilipili_

_my parents promised me if I’m doing good at the next math test then they’re going to repair my drums – Dowoonie_

_The girls are all swooning over you. Rumor says that you once fought a tiger in the jungle. Don’t know about that tho – Sungjin_

_Are you okay? – pilipili_

_We’re worrying about you – Sungjin_

_hyung, come over if you’re bored – Dowoonie_

_Teacher Park seems to be mad at something. Did something happen? – Sungjin_

_Hyung? – Dowoonie_

_Everything’s going to be alright, I promise – pilipili_

_~~~_

Coming back to school feels… empty in a way. Younghyun knows what awaits him behind those bars; the staring and whispering and glances and rumors and Younghyun left all alone. Fall has swept in the last few days just like the clouds do on that day, no sun, no rain, just a gray blanket covering the endless beauty of the sky.

The walls stare back at him just as the ground does when Younghyun’s gaze never strays too afar, just to avoid those scared, pitiful or empty glances.

At one point, the world turns silent. No whispers, no hushed curses, even his friends’ words never reach him. He sits relentlessly in his chair, stares at the table in front of him, homework all forgotten, lessons all drowning out in the back of his mind.

In his mind, he sees a field with no flowers, empty and lonely, dry grass wafting in the warm wind that brings no relief, the beach hidden behind the slope. His hand reaches out to touch the blade of the grass, it turns to dust even before he can feel it beneath his fingers. The dust wafts through the wind, floating as little lights high up into an endless sky, a painting with no colors in it.

A world that only exists within his fantasy, with no sun or star to reach out for, with no one except for Younghyun living in there. He wishes he could catch those lights and see if they really are more than crumbled dust from the things his hands destroy.

His teachers call for him every lesson. They call him up, angry when Younghyun doesn’t react, blank when they give up. They have long given up on Younghyun, that cool and broody guy who has put someone into the hospital, who will end up in prison or on the street sooner or later anyway. Even teacher Park doesn’t so much as glance to him, doesn’t notice him, doesn’t acknowledge his existence. Why should he? Younghyun is only a stubborn child who cannot be taught any better.

Younghyun drifts through his day. Younghyun drifts through his week. Avoids his friends. Avoids his classmates. Avoids anyone who tries to talk to him. No math club, no band, no after school chillout, nothing. Only his mother and a silent dinner that Younghyun cooks with no heart, numb to his bones.

Drifting.

And floating.

Like a thing that has crumbled to dust and glides on the wind aimlessly, never turning into a beautiful specter of light. For there is no sky to reach out for or a flower to bloom, and Younghyun is caught in a field that crumbles into dust as soon as he touches anything.

The faint sound of the beach never reaches his ears.

“Why aren’t you coming anymore?”

When Younghyun looks up from his endless staring at the table, a red-faced Jeongin stands bravely before him. His mouth hangs low in a deep frown, his eyes blazing in false anger that tries too hard to hide the worry.

“The math club needs you. Without you we can’t go to the competition.”

Younghyun shuts his books with a loud thump, his chair screeches over the floor as he stands up, every head turns toward the two.

“Search for someone else.”

Curt and cold. Jeongin’s face falls even further.

“But I don’t want someone else.” Even when Younghyun walks out of the room, Jeongin follows him with quick steps. “I want you to be in my team.”

Younghyun stops. Sighs. Doesn’t look back. “I don’t want to, though.”

“Why not?”

_Because my heart can’t bear to be so close to him without him looking at me._

“Because I said so.”

Where does Jeongin find so much bravery? Even when Younghyun tries to flee the scene once again, Jeongin grabs his arm and holds on tight, squeezing as if he tries to catch the dust slipping through his fingers as small specters of light.

“Please!” A forehead presses against his arm, two hands still clutching around it. “There is no one except you who can do it. You are smart, you are intelligent, you are the only one that I want by my side when I win that trophy.”

One light shines brightly as it floats through the air, such a pretty sight in a world where time has stopped existing.

He can’t explain himself why Jeongin wishes that as Younghyun is nothing more than… whatever he is. And yet, he wears such a strong wish in his heart that pierces through Younghyun’s own, striking a wound that has never closed, touching something deeply engraved within him.

Younghyun doesn’t look back as he wrenches his arm out of Jeongin’s hold and struts down the hallway. He doesn’t look back as he knows that Jeongin’s eyes will break his already broken heart even more.

Somehow…

He still ends up here. The clock ticks behind him as a constant reminder. It has long started while Younghyun only stares at the door, the clock strikes another ten minutes later, and he still stares.

Well, he's already here, right?

Wordlessly, he slides open the door and enters the abruptly silent room, falls down into his chair with a simple grunt, and keeps his gaze locked on the table.

No one says something for a whole minute as they only watch him. Younghyun can feel the gazes until that one glowing light speaks up with a voice that spills over with so much happiness.

“Now that we are complete, let’s start the session, alright?”

Jeongin beams at him, brimming with happiness in his seat, and somehow the world seems to be so much brighter.

And when Younghyun accidentally looks up once, he sees his teacher watching him again with those eyes.

~~~

A place where wishes come true. A field where so many flowers bloom to the shore where waves crash against it, but never reaching too far out from the beach. Younghyun has once been in such a place.

A memory lost in the years that have passed, a memory that remains forgotten to protect an innocent heart.

~~~

One day, Younghyun comes into his class early and finds a note on his desk. It simply says, ‘ _Come to the music room after class_ ’ and Younghyun thinks it’s another one of those. A girl asking him to meet him somewhere to confess. He looks around the class and sees barely anyone there, no one watching him reading the note, no one who looks interested in him at all.

His mind always goes back to the note throughout the day, wondering who would write him that. He is curious. So far, all girls and boys look at him like a savage who would punch them in their face as soon as he gets too close. Is there someone out there who is in love with him? Who is ready to dismiss those rumors and love him beside him being that boy with no father?

He wants to believe that maybe yes, someone out there is able to love Younghyun. And Younghyun, still an innocent and dumb romantic by heart, somehow gives in to his curiosity to see the bravery of a girl once again.

(Such a fool, his heart chides him and tries to remind him of all the confessions he has already received. Such a fool, his mind retorts back and reminds his heart of what people think about him and what he really is.)

Only that once he slides the room open, it isn’t a girl that greets him, it’s just a simple instrument staring up to him with its beautiful body polished and nearly new.

Nearly.

Because it is his old guitar that sits there in the middle of the room, no sign of anything broken. Younghyun is going crazy, that’s for sure, because his guitar had been destroyed by a guy that Younghyun has punched in the face.

It feels the same under his touch but smoother. It sounds like his guitar but clearer. The strings have been replaced, the wood neatly glued together as if it has never been broken apart. Younghyun had believed it to be destroyed beyond repair and yet here it sits between his hands, more beautiful than ever.

He plays a chord and his heart jumps in blissful happiness. Younghyun needs to find out whoever did this and ask why. Why would someone do that for him?

“Happy?”

When Younghyun’s head whips up to meet the other’s eyes, he thinks,

_Maybe I am now._


	5. Step... whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Math competition time!

“T-teacher Park?”

Younghyun’s eyes are glued to the ethereal appearance of his teacher, the sun shining behind his back, making his pale skin glow. His teacher leans against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, a small smile on his lips.

“What—what are you doing here?”

His teacher’s smile widens when Younghyun’s cheeks redden and he ducks his head to hide them. His heart nervously races in his chest, the guitar feels so heavy in his arms.

“Haven’t seen that boy in a long time.”

His blush deepens with the little nab at him. What should he do to calm down his heart? Younghyun doesn’t know. What is going on here? His fingers clamp around his guitar, seeking comfort in a touch that is familiar but at the same time not. Smooth, fresh and new meets old and familiar, a memory so out of touch.

“You like it?” Younghyun only hums in confusion. “The guitar, I mean. Sorry that it took so long but I’ve had to travel to the next big city to get it repaired and—”

Younghyun’s head whips up. The faint sound of waves crashing against the shore, slow and calm waters swimming up to the beach that is nowhere to be seen within that field with no flowers.

“You repaired it?”

Teacher Park stops rambling when he notices Younghyun’s wide eyes, the confusion written in them. “Well, yes. That guitar is too beautiful to be broken like that.”

“You did it because of the guitar?”

One thud. Another thud. Slowly but loudly his heart waits for being finally heard. His gaze never wavers from teacher Park’s—from Jae’s eyes, eyes that search for something in his face that he may never find. Younghyun pleads that Jae will find it.

“Dowoon told me it's your last remnant of your father. I’ve seen how happy you look when you play it and I’ve seen how hurt you were once it was destroyed. I guess I wanted to make you happy again.”

Happy. Jae wanted to make him happy again. Even after he had been so disappointed by Younghyun, even after he had given up on him, Jae wants him to be happy again.

What should Younghyun feel except for something deep blooming inside his heart? What should he feel except for that first light of love that is now a thousand stars shining in the sky, thousand lights in a world where Younghyun is lost in, but somehow can hear the beach from not so afar?

His limbs are shaking as his body is frozen, staring up at the man that holds his broken heart between his fingers, every touch and every word mending it back together.

“And I’m sorry, I guess. I know I didn’t react how a teacher should but—”

Jae smells like the sun. He smells like salt water and the fresh scent of summer, cool and calming, soothing and, for Younghyun, like the best thing in the world. His impulse takes over where his mind fails him, and Younghyun suddenly abandons his guitar just to throw his hands around Jae’s body and push his nose into Jae’s shoulder.

A beautiful place to be in, a beautiful place to hide his face into. Especially so when Jae’s own arms hesitantly pat against his back, warm, soft, caring.

“Hey, hey.”

And then Younghyun remembers his place. He jumps back from the hug and starts bowing again and again with ‘sorry’s spilling from his lips, his head redder than a tomato.

“I was just so happy that someone would do something like this. Thank you very much, teacher-nim!”

A hand suddenly in his hair, tugging at his strands to make him look up into the beautiful face of Jae, a warm and soft gaze in them. So pretty that it steals Younghyun’s breath and heart at the same time.

“Promise me to never disappoint me like that again, okay? Just-- keep surprising me and who knows, maybe you’ll be happier than ever. As long as you do this for you.”

Daring. Younghyun has to be daring to surprise someone. So, he softly takes Jae’s hand off his hair and intertwines their little fingers in a promise as children like to do. It works in a way that Jae smiles so much that his eyes form crescents, gleaming like the lights in a world where the beach has become so loud for Younghyun to hopefully find it soon enough.

“I promise, Jae-hyung!”

~~~

His classmates have big eyes when Younghyun enters the school with a small skip in his steps the next day. He smiles and beams and is sort of shining to everyone. People are confused about that behavior, especially his friends.

“Did you win the lottery or why are you so—like this?” Sungjin motions to his everything despite the big smile on his face.

Younghyun shakes his head, the grin never wavering on his lips. “Guess what—I have my guitar back.”

“You didn’t even let us take a guess,” Wonpil pouts before he brightens again, hitting him lightly against the shoulder. “But I’m glad that you could repair it.”

“But isn’t it very expensive to do so?” Sungjin muses.

Oh. Younghyun hasn’t thought about that. How much must his teacher have paid for the repair? Oh god, Younghyun should quickly run home and ask his mother for his lunch money that would have fed him for the rest of the year.

“Ah~” Wonpil flicks him against the forehead when the panic shows on his face. “I can guess what happened. A certain teacher did it, right?”

Younghyun immediately shushes him. “What if someone hears you?”

Sungjin scoffs, leaning back into his chair and kicking his feet up onto the table. “Then they are dumbasses. The whole town knows that teacher Park and your mom are practically best friends at this point. If only they knew that it is her son that is lusting after—”

“Sungjin! Why are you doing this to me?!”

“Be glad that Dowoon isn’t here to make it worse,” Wonpil chuckles, patting against the spot he hit before. “Hyung is only teasing you. He is such a tsundere~”

“What if I am? At least then I am not some hopeless romantic who tries his best at seducing someone who is about ten years older than him.”

Younghyun hits his head against the table. Maybe then he can forget about this whole conversation. “You guys are the death of me—”

“Isn’t your mother always saying this?”

“—Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because you need us~”

But band practice that evening with his friends— even though Dowoon only had a triangle and Sungjin had to get used to play on an electric guitar while Younghyun played the bass—was so much fun. They laughed about every missed note, they cheered about every finished song, they whispered about every rumor going around in school.

Having friends is something Younghyun is so glad about not missing out on, especially since his are some crackheads who tease him for the guy Younghyun pretends to be, but still support him in his impossible pursuit of his teacher.

(Dowoon gifted him once a book that said “Love for Dummies” on the cover. An insult but still sweet enough that Younghyun didnt push him out of the window.)

What Younghyun hasn’t expected was how much fun math club is.

With the competition drawing near, all the boys in the club are giving their best to live up to Jeongin’s expectations. They kill it during their quick-shot question round and Jeongin’s flawless equations are still knocking Younghyun’s socks off. They laugh, they are merry, and even their teacher joins in for some fun.

And because the competition is nearing, teacher Park joins in with the preparations and, as soon as he is at his wits' end since Jeongin’s so much smarter than him, he disappears for a good half hour before he arrives back with some food in his hands.

Their club meetings are getting longer with each day and soon enough, the math competition arrives. And Younghyun has a big problem.

“What do you mean you can’t drive me?”

His mother swats him off with a towel, the chiming bell too quiet over her apologetic tone. “You heard me. The Lees down the road ordered a big cake for their daughter’s wedding. It’s the first big order since ever, Younghyunnie. Eomma has to do it!”

Younghyun leans over the counter to pout to his mother’s face, that’s how desperate he is. “Jeongin needs me. I promised him to be there!”

“Then ask him if his parents can take you with them?”

“I don’t have his number,” Younghyun mumbles sheepishly, ruffling up his hair. “Can’t you just bring me there and then—”

“It’s in Seoul, that’s a few hours’ drive!”

“Mom, please!”

“Hello there.”

Younghyun and his mother jump at the new voice in the middle of their conversation, both clutching their shirts by their heart. Teacher Park laughs heartily at the sight, his glasses reflecting the image Younghyun is rocking. Great.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but listen in,” teacher Park starts to apologize with a light bow but soon gets swatted with a towel by none other than his mother whose look just sends.

“No need to apologize, Jae. My son's just a bit whiney today as you may have heard.”

“Mom!” Why does she have to do that? What has Younghyun done wrong in his life—okay, don’t answer that.

However, when his teacher starts to beam brightly at them, a face that Younghyun has gotten used to by now, dread starts to pool in his stomach.

“I may have a solution for your problem.”

And that’s when Younghyun’s small problem becomes a so much bigger problem.

He is currently sitting with none other than his teacher in his car for the next few hours just because his mother doesn't have the time to be a good mother. Younghyun needs some time to get that into his brain. Preferably some more hours, but alas here he sits in a car right next to his teacher. His heart is beating so hard against his ribs that he wants to tear it out and throw it out of the window.

“You can pick the music if you want to.” Jae hands him over his phone just like that, no passcode needed to unlock it.

At first, Younghyun marvels about the fact that everything is written in English before he remembers that Jae is one) talking to him in English and two) a native English speaker who has been living in Korea for only a few months (the good side of his mother being besties with his teacher—Younghyun gets all the good news on Jae).

Then, Younghyun curiously swipes through the many playlists Jae has on his phone, clicking from one song to another and exploring the vast variety of Park Jaehyung’s taste. Younghyun finds everything, from rock to pop to rap to jazz, name it and Jae has it.

No matter which song Younghyun puts on, Jae can sing it. And how Jae can sing it. Ever since Jae had played for him in the music room, Younghyun hadn’t gotten the chance to hear him again. Every note Jae sings, every word he sings with such grace, every smile he throws to Younghyun; some people might say Younghyun has fallen in love all over again.

That’s how the first hour passes until Jae parks the car at a gas station with a fast food place right next to it. Younghyun is ready to wait for Jae in his car, writing updates for Wonpil on how well the drive is going when Jae suddenly knocks against his window and leans down to smile at Younghyun.

“You wanna grab some snacks?”

And who says no to food?

Younghyun eats two burgers, one serving of fries, an apple turnover, a small portion of ice cream and finishes it off with a fruit smoothie, all of that payed out of Jae’s own pocket. When Younghyun looks up from his finished meal to his teacher, he startles back at the wide eyes fixed on him.

“Dude, how much can you eat?”

Right, Younghyun has all but forgotten to temper down his appetite to not freak out Jae that much. Welp, too late for that, Younghyun guesses.

How far Younghyun has come that he doesn’t feel shy about it.

“I’ve always been a heavy eater. How else can I contain that figure considering how often my mother uses me as taster for new cookie recipes.”

Jae’s laugh sends his heart to the roof and back. “Take what you can get, right?”

“Good thing I like to play basketball.” Younghyun pats against his full belly, sighing contently at the warm feeling in his stomach. “You played basketball in high school, too, if I remember correctly?”

Has Younghyun imagined that sudden sadness in Jae’s eyes or what was that about?

“Sort of. I was good, I think?” Jae shrugs with a short hum, cocking his head. His fingers meddle with the half-eaten fries in front of him, dipping it slowly into the ketchup.

“Were you in a team?”

Jae shakes his head, his red bangs falling into his eyes. The urge to push them away is not so distracting anymore. “The jocks weren’t the nicest guys in my school. They would’ve laughed at me if I'd told them I wanna join.”

Younghyun blinks in confusion. “Why? You’re tall and have big hands.” Way to go, Younghyun, sometimes his mouth runs before his brain thinks.

Jae, thankfully, only chuckles in delight. “In Korea, sure. But have you seen American basketball players? They’re taller by a head. Plus, my body has been all limbs and bones with nothing behind, they could bend me with their little fingers.”

“I think you’re fine.” And thank god that Younghyun hasn’t actually said something along the lines of ‘you’re one fine piece of meat’ because that for sure would have been an awkward thing to say to his teacher. Especially because Younghyun has still a long drive ahead with said teacher.

“Thanks. But that was almost ten years ago, a lotta changed.”

Younghyun’s eyes gleam in curiosity. “You have pictures?”

“No.”

“Not on your phone or in general?”

“No, forget it. I won’t show you pictures of my awkward teenage years.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s embarrassing.”

“But you see me and I’m in my awkward teenage years.”

“You’re different.”

Oh. Has someone seen Younghyun’s breath? Probably not as it has just been knocked out of his lungs by that teasing smile on Jae’s lips sitting there ever since their small banter has begun, and Jae throwing that small sentence into said banter? Rude.

“In what way different?”

Younghyun is awkward, no point in denying that. He has a crush on his teacher and has to deal with blushing cheeks 24/7 ever since. He is a hopeless romantic who reads too many shojo mangas, lives only with his mother who makes the best pastries in the whole damn country and is a secret math nerd on his way to a math competition. No one can tell him anything different, Younghyun is the odd one in their school, only that people don’t see him as that.

“Now you’re fishing for compliments.”

Maybe Younghyun does that. But does it matter? No, not at all because then Younghyun would finally know what Jae thinks about him. Does he think of him as handsome? As intelligent? As someone dateable? Someone who is fit to be by Jae’s side?

“Is it so bad wanting to hear a compliment once in a while?”

Younghyun is pushing it, he knows. But he has to try and find the boundary Jae has to set between them. How much flirting can Jae stay oblivious to? How much admiring can Younghyun throw into his face? When will Jae finally get what he is for Younghyun?

Just then, his fingers start to itch when he sees Jae’s face lighting up in such a beautiful grin (and maybe it’s only the sun making his fair skin even fairer (and maybe Younghyun wishes that light tan back that Jae had when he first arrived from California)). A sight to behold, a sight to wax lyrics about, a sight for eternity.

“We should get back on our way, otherwise Jeongin will nag our ears off.”

~~~

“Why did you stop, though?”

The outside world is all but a blur melting together into a mix of colors, the same scenery for half an hour by now. Younghyun’s brain goes into sleepy mode, his head leans against the window and shakes with every bump on the road as Younghyun tries to get a wink of sleep. Not happening though, so all that is left is to talk to Jae.

With a sleepy brain. That’s why his sentence is so slurred. And Jae’s small laugh sounds like heaven’s choir.

“Try to sleep, Younghyun.”

Nearly sleepy Younghyun talks too much, Dowoon once told him. (When Younghyun prompted to know about what, Dowoon shrugged his shoulders and grinned mischievously.) Just for this reason Younghyun always tries to stay awake enough in case he blabbers about something that anyone isn’t supposed to know. Like that he is gay. Or that he is hopelessly in love with his teacher. Or—

“Brian.” Jae crunches his eyebrows in confusion. So cute, Younghyun nearly wants to say that. Instead, he elaborates, “Back in Canada, I called myself Brian.”

The eyebrows melt into a delighted grin, nearly devious even. “Is that so, Brian?”

Younghyun nuzzles deeper into his own shoulder, his face heating with the warmth of the sun shining directly down at him. “Terry and Don liked it.”

“Your friends from Canada?”

No bumps on the road. Warmth. The scent of Jae in the air. A chill-out pop song bellowing through the radio. His eyes fall close.

“I loved being in Toronto. Had a band. My granny. A gay uncle.”

“Why did you move away?”

And maybe the faint sound of waves rolling onto the beach, gently and soft, a nice kind of rhythm.

“’Cause my father’s an asshole.” Shadows dance over his closed eyes. Calm. Younghyun feels save. He can let himself fall into the arms of summer, an embrace of warm water lapping at his feet, wind soft on his skin, sun warm in his heart. “Loved that other woman more than mom.” Drunk on sleepiness, yet he feels like flying on the clouds to a place far away. Maybe a place that has fields with many flowers blooming, lights floating through the wind and a sky full of stars. “Mom never stopped crying.”

His head flies off the window when they hit a bump on the road, yet the pain never comes. A warm hand cradles his head, long fingers protecting him from the hit, warm, soft, save.

“I like this,” Younghyun says with a mere whisper just before sleep takes him away. “I like when you do this.”

~~~

“Younghyun-ah. Wake up.”

Just when his dream slowly fades away and Younghyun opens his eyes to a too bright world, his shoulder gets shaken once again, a little bit harder than before.

“Yo, Brian, wake up.”

“I—I’m awake.” Younghyun whines into his sleeve and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, yawning peacefully as his brain slowly goes back online. His dream is still lingering in his mind, the short picture of his bare feet sinking into the sand and waves reaching up to his ankles, the sun shining down on him as his hand releases a light from his palm.

He turns his head to the other way and notices Jae staring at him, his arm stretched out to—

Younghyun quickly sits up to free Jae’s hand from that probably uncomfortable position and to hide his reddening cheeks in his hands (secretly checking if he has drool on his chin or anywhere else), processing everything that may had happened.

His brain latches onto the most obvious thing.

“Brian?”

Despite Jae obviously having heard the question as his mouth tugs up into something like smirk, Jae leaves the car with no answer at all and Younghyun hastily scrambles behind him.

“Did I sleeptalk again?!”

The building in front of them is huge, even though it’s only a simple school building in Seoul. People are bustling through the school, mostly parents with their kids that also take part in the competition. Jae maneuvers through the crowd quite easily due to his height whereas Younghyun has to excuse himself to not lose Jae in here.

“You sleeptalk?”

Younghyun finally catches up to Jae on the stairs up where the signs point to the registration, their meeting point. Jae looks so cool with his hands tugged into his pockets, the suit jacket a tad too big on his shoulders but still very stylish, whereas Younghyun is stuck in his usual school uniform.

“I think? Dowoon said that I talk too much when I’m sleepy. So, it’s more of a sleepy-talking than sleeptalking.”

Jeongin is waving at them as soon as they arrive on the floor, the other two boys mimicking him from their place next to the registration. Their parents immediately hush them down.

“Ah. Then yes, you did sleepy-talk. Told me all of your secrets, Brian.”

Younghyun just can’t anymore. Not by how Jae leans down to him to throw him that lazy smile. That guy is just too much for his heart. And which secrets is he even talking about? Younghyun has one in particular he is very keen on keeping it as such for now.

“Secrets? Which secrets?!”

But Jae, as Younghyun knows by now, can be a little tease. Which means, he walks up to the parents with his head thrown into his neck and bellowing laughter spilling out of his throat instead of giving Younghyun the important answers that decide over life or dead.

As such, Younghyun never gets the chance to ask him since Jae is already talking to the parents of his students, back in teacher mode with the amusement nearly vanished from his face. Younghyun turns away from the image of something untouchable for him but finds Jeongin staring up with stars in his eyes and a bright smile on his lips instead.

“You are here,” Jeongin breathes as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. His fingers reach out to tug on Younghyun’s sleeve just in case Younghyun wants to bolt or something.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Younghyun shrugs non-committedly, glancing at Jae from his periphery, wondering what the parents are talking about.

“I never thought—” Jeongin catches himself from saying something. Younghyun knows that face, the instant realization that something worse could have left his mouth. However, it doesn’t shake up Jeongin too much as his smile turns into a bright grin that could nearly rival Jae’s. “I’m just happy.”

And suddenly, the fingers let go of his sleeves, just a second before someone new enters their conversation. Younghyun watches the two adults nearing them, the woman putting her hands on Jeongin’s shoulders protectively. Her eyes flash in something Younghyun has seen before, a sentiment that many parents share when they see Younghyun face to face for the first time.

“Who is your friend, Jeongin?”

Jeongin’s parents, a picture so innocent and flashy, a loving and doting mother with a strong and calm father behind, protecting their son from the troublemaker of the school, the one who has no father to discipline him nor the discipline to not put a guy into the hospital.

“That’s Younghyun-hyung. He’s in our team.”

Jeongin sounds so happy to introduce them, probably because he sees Younghyun as the somewhat older friend that he can show off while he doesn’t see the caution in his parents’ eyes.

“Is that so?”

She smiles. Her smile is empty, a farce, a mask to wear as not to seem impolite, even though everyone can clearly see what she thinks of Younghyun.

“Nice to meet you.” Younghyun plays nice with them. Bows in front of them deeper than anytime else. Longer than anytime else. Smiles although he sees the way they look at him. “Your son is a very intelligent boy. You must be proud of him.”

They live in a small town where everyone knows everyone. They know his lonely mother who struggles to find employees for her bakery, they know her son that smells of trouble. Traditions, prejudices, morals and norms that they hold are never a thing Younghyun fits in. The outcast who somehow exceeds everyone’s expectations. Someone as him should be low in the hierarchy of popularity in their school, instead he has girls swooning for him like his fingers pluck at the strings of his guitar.

Younghyun is charming. Younghyun is nice. Handsome. Calm. Talented. Intelligent. Helpful. Polite. Considerate.

A stigma.

A lonely being in a field that has no flowers blooming within, endless to drown out every faint sound of the beach, like a storm raging and destroying everything.

“He is. He has such a bright future ahead, doesn’t he?”

Unlike Younghyun. Who will always be stuck in that town, afraid to break his mother’s heart, unable to fight against the wall of people talking him down.

“Yes. Whatever he wishes to pursue, I’m sure he will achieve it, no matter what comes.”

What does his future look like? Does Younghyun even have a future?

“Look at him. Such a polite boy!” Her voice sounds delighted to everyone but Younghyun who hears the mocking in her tone. “Has a way with words. I’ve seen you play on stage once, you looked like an idol. You ever thought of pursuing that?”

Out of sight, out of mind. Without Younghyun, the stigma would be gone, and his mother left on her own.

Honestly? Younghyun has considered this, more often than he wants to admit. One time in particular he had already packed his bags, ready to skip town for a life that isn’t dragging his mother down, when he heard her crying in her room and praying to god. Younghyun quietly unpacked his things again because he couldn’t leave her alone here.

His mother needs the bakery. His mother needs the calm scenery so far away from the city he has been growing up in. His mother needs her son more than anything else. And Younghyun can’t allow himself to be selfish enough and take her that one thing away.

“No, I don’t think I am good enough for that.”

He isn’t humble. Younghyun genuinely thinks that he doesn’t have the potential to be a full-fledged idol. His dancing sucks, his voice wavers too much, the thought of being pressed into yet another persona he doesn’t want to play churns his stomach.

Jeongin’s mother never disagrees.

And lets Jeongin’s father change the topic instead. “Where are your parents?”

How much he wishes that the question was an accident and not some plot to kick an already bleeding man. This whole conversation is exhausting, a constant reminder that Younghyun knows by heart. The judging parents and their child that is looking to the floor in shame (and sometimes even judging Younghyun, too) and Younghyun with his head lowered to not see the judgement in their eyes.

Younghyun is about to open his mouth and tell them the truth when suddenly someone puts a hand on his head and tugs lightly at the hair, making him look up to the parents despite the reddening of his cheeks and widening of his eyes.

“Their bakery got such a huge order that his mother couldn’t take the day off. That’s awesome, right?”

Silence embraces the group as somehow a staring battle has started between them, the unwavering stare of a fake smiling Jae and Jeongin’s parents mirroring the expression, while Jeongin and Younghyun stand flustered in their respective spots, the one staring down to his shoes and the other unable to do so.

“Let’s look for a seat in the auditorium, Jeongin.”

Jeongin nods at the same moment Younghyun releases his breath. His heart finally slows down to a calmer pace when he sees the trio retreating from their conversation without a good-bye. The two are left to stare after them, the hand never letting go of his hair.

“Fucking parents, I swear…” Younghyun hears Jae muttering under his breath, his heart not so calm anymore, now for entirely other reasons. “Never look down when someone looks down on you, no matter if they are older than you. Fuck those bigoted idiots, you are so much better than them.”

The fingers finally let go and Younghyun’s head immediately lowers down to hide the emotions flittering through his eyes and the loud pounding of his heart.

“And I think you could become an idol if you tried.”

His fingers clench around the hem of his shirt, processing what had just happened. The only thought in his mind, fleeting and barely existing, is a feeling so foreign to him. Younghyun thinks, just for a short moment, he might have felt happy.

~~~

Jeongin avoids his gaze when they take their seats for the competition, does so for the first few rounds as his shoulders rise in tension. That tension quickly melts off and gets replaced by a different one, a certain competitiveness possessing Jeongin’s whole body.

The bell’s ringing and ringing, people applauding, time ticking, chalks grating and soon enough, Younghyun’s team made it into the semi-finale. The host announces a short break for the competitors to regain some energy by buying many of the available snacks outside the auditorium, kindly provided by the many sponsors.

Just outside the room as Younghyun is searching his pockets for some change to buy a skewer, someone tugs at his sleeve and pulls him to the side. The sight of a sad looking Jeongin greets him, his frame hidden by the dark shadow of the hallway.

“Hyung.”

The way Jeongin’s too afraid to look him into the eyes as Younghyun would see his shame too clearly, Younghyun thinks that someone as young as him shouldn’t be able to do such in the first place.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

A child ashamed of the words his parents have spoken, a child ashamed of things that isn’t its fault at all. A heartbreaking sight that Younghyun knows too well and one that he wishes to remedy instantly.

“It’s okay. Your parents didn’t mean bad.”

Empty words that are supposed to fill an empty space in someone’s heart, may it be Jeongin or Younghyun’s. Empty words, however, don’t bear any meaning in them, just like Jeongin still avoids his gaze too hard.

“No, they did. I wish I would’ve come to your defense. What happened is wrong. And I’m really sorry for that.”

And to make matters even worse, Jeongin bows deeply in front of Younghyun, his knees buckling, his lips trembling.

Is that how Jae always feels like when Younghyun bows in front of him? Heartbroken at the sight of someone who hasn’t done anything wrong and yet feels deeply apologetic for that? Who puts himself down to be as small as possible so that nobody can hurt them anymore?

What would Jae do in his situation?

His hand reaches out before he realizes it, patting softly against the head of the boy bowing in front of him, a sad smile dancing on his lips.

“You aren’t your parents, Jeongin.” And despite of that gesture, despite Younghyun lightly tugging at the hair, Jeongin doesn’t budge an inch. His head stays where it is, stubborn and determined. “It doesn’t matter to me what they think—” (Lies, all lies.) “—as long as you aren’t a prisoner of their thoughts.”

Jeongin’s fingers clamp around themselves, pressing hard, his knuckles turning white.

“But isn’t that the problem?” It gets to Younghyun how broken Jeongin sounds. A voice that trembles much, wetness clinging to the desperate tone. “Who can I be if they have this perfect image in their head? I just want—”

At the small sniff Younghyun’s fingers card through the hair in a soft caress, back and forth, just like Jae always does.

“What do you want?”

And finally, Jeongin straightens his posture with his hand clutching Younghyun’s wrist, holding his hand where it caresses his hair. Tears are staining his cheeks and his nose running, his face contorted in a desperate plea. His voice is mere a whisper broken by his own sobs, a silent plea to please listen.

“I don’t want to hide anymore.”

People around them start to stare at the boy who cries in the corner, small whispers that can quickly turn into a raging fire. So, Younghyun does the only thing that flitters through his mind and pulls Jeongin into him, presses his head against his shoulder to hide the boy’s tears from the world to see.

The corner is dark enough for Jeongin to be completely hidden by Younghyun’s wide frame, his cries muffled by his body with all the pain that has long waited restlessly in inside him to be finally released.

“It’s okay,” Younghyun whispers again and again and then eventually adds, “The day will come where you don’t have to hide anymore. And in the meantime, just be yourself when you’re with me. I promised you to be by your side, right?”

The skewers are long forgotten by the time Younghyun and Jeongin reenter the auditorium, puffed eyes and wet chest ignored with their heads held high.

~~~

When Younghyun was a child, his parents took him to somewhere far away. His small eyes watched brightly the sight melting into one, tree after tree, cloud after cloud, as the city merges into fields and greens. The world seemed so different then.

There were birds singing in the sky and the wind brought the faint smell of the ocean with it. Their car was left behind and a so much bigger hand was clasped around his. The grass was higher than Younghyun himself, the flowers stared lovingly down at the childish gleam in his eyes.

For Younghyun, it looked like lights wafting through the sky instead of pollen clinging to every breeze. Those lights danced in the wind high up into the air, a sky with no clouds and revealing its endless blue and a world so far out of Younghyun’s reach.

Yet, that hand grabbed him under his arms and soon, Younghyun felt as if flying with the lights as he sat on the shoulders of his father. The breath-taking sight of a field filled with so many colorful flowers unfolded in front of him. They ran and ran and ran until they arrived at the beach, their laughter following the waves crashing against the shore.

A feeling bloomed in his chest. Small and insignificant for a boy, a hole that hadn’t existed in that bubble he lived in.

His small fingers closed around a light. Wish something and blow it away, his father told him. And Younghyun did after long consideration. He opened his palm and pursed his lips, gently blowing the light for it to follow its friend up to the stars in the sky.

Younghyun wished for never forgetting that moment again.

It haunts him to this day.

He doesn’t know why he suddenly has to think back to that memory as he stares out of the window, gazing over the masses of people leaving the school and visiting the many stands outside. His team won the semi-finale and now waits for the last round to start. They scattered around to talk with their parents, to get something to eat, to find some new friends that they may never see again.

And here he is, in an empty classroom, waiting for the break to end and to get the last part over. The day has been draining him and a ride back with his teacher is not something he looks forward to. (Not because he doesn’t enjoy Jae’s proximity, more because he is tired and tends to slip up more then.)

The clock ticks behind him. Tick tack, counting toward something. Five minutes left until it starts. Younghyun sighs and closes the window, his eyes flittering through the crowd for a last time. Children with their parents, the small ones clinging to them, both eating, laughing, everything. Except for Younghyun who is all alone with no one there for him except for his teacher.

(And yes, Younghyun has played with the thought that Jae is only here because he is the math teacher.)

Younghyun who is that child without parents here, that child who has no father, Younghyun—

Do you know those moments where the world suddenly stands still and yet tilts lightly? Just a little bit but still enough to throw you off your feet? Turning everything you believed to know into crumbles, just like a broken heart with scars that are bleeding all of the sudden once again?

His feet start walking even though Younghyun feels hazy. His thoughts are circling around as do his feelings, neither Younghyun can grab on. He pushes people out of his way, never apologizes, just goes forward to reach for something he believes to have seen minutes ago.

Is this how it feels like getting the rug pulled out from under your feet?

A field that had once so many flowers was left behind with no power to regain after a harsh winter. No more flowers to bloom, no more lights that float up into the sky, no more stars to reach for.

The wind sweeps through his hair just like on that day before, children’s laughter never reaching his ears as he watches the scene unfold, serene and calm with nothing out of place. Perfect, picturesque, not a single detail missing. Younghyun the watcher, outside of a world that has long shut him out without him knowing.

Doors are closing. Bells are ringing.

The wind stops.

The tides quiet.

~~~

Jeongin taps impatiently against the desk, the only audible thing in the auditorium before the whispers start. The host talks to the team, the boys shrugging and Jeongin motioning agitatedly with his hands as he explains. An empty chair beside him.

The brows in his face furrow as Jae looks at his watch again. The break ended ten minutes ago and still no sign of Younghyun. The opposing team smirks and gloats over an easy win because Younghyun probably got scared of them, mocking Jeongin with their grins that they hide behind their polite bows.

Not far from him Jae hears Jeongin’s parents whispering, the faces grim and filled with so much anger because their son has to lose because of that goddamn troubled child. Jae clenches his hands into fists to maintain a calm demeanor, politely leaving his seat in the middle of the row as an uncertain feeling grows in his stomach.

Younghyun isn’t like that. Despite him doing the unbelievable from time to time, Younghyun doesn’t abandon his friends. He knows how important this is for Jeongin. Jae swears to god, if that child has gotten into another messy situation, he’ll—

He doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Ever since he met Younghyun on that day in front of the principle’s door, Jae has seen something in those eyes. A child lost on their way, mislead by the demons that Jae knows too well. He thought of Younghyun as this typical jock that had made fun of Jae in school, that abandoned their parents’ expectations to have the time of their lives instead of seeing the future. Instead he got to know someone with a heart too big for such a cruel world.

Younghyun is somewhat clumsy and awkward, overly nice to everyone as not to hurt them, trying to help where he can, a heart that longs for something to fill that need of being seen.

Jae has hoped to be some guide for that kid and to bring out the best of him, even more so after he has seen the many walls Younghyun hides behind. Jae wants to crumble it down, wants to see what is hidden behind.

Cool and broody as the school makes him out to be? Clumsy and awkward as he hadn’t known how to act around Jae? Confident and sexy as he played his bass on stage? Funny and innocent as he ate servings for two people at the same? Caring and unafraid as he stood up for his friends? Lost and broken as someone had taken him something important away?

He has to be somewhere. Jae goes through each and every room of this school: classroom, teacher’s lounge, library, infirmary, everywhere.

His heart thumps hard against his rips as panic surges through his veins. The harbinger of something bad on its way.

Until he eventually opens the door to the men’s restroom on the first floor.

That is when something breaks in him.

The moment his eyes lay sight on Younghyun, Jae knows that Younghyun will not go up on that stage any time now.

The world stands still. The silence presses down on his shoulder, just like tension in the air. A light tilt to a world in a bubble that has long burst.

His feet bring him closer to Younghyun’s form sat on the ground. His head leans against the tiles as does his whole slumped body, as if it feels too powerless to keep him upward anymore. His eyes are open, unfocused, lost in somewhere far away.

This is the figure of someone who has not only lost their way but also gave up finding their way out. Even the tides raging across the ocean can’t unveil something as shattered as Younghyun seems to be.

Jae falls on his knees in front of Younghyun and reaches out, cradles his cheek in one hand to feel the light wetness of nearly dried tears against his palm, pulling with the other Younghyun’s shoulder to lean his body away from the wall and into his chest.

No blushing. No tension. No blinking. Younghyun stays as he is put, no movement, nothing.

“Hey.” Jae doesn’t get an answer, not after the second time he asks, not after the third time, too. “What happened?”

His gaze wanders through the room and only then he sees the broken mirror, its shards crumbled down on the floor. Blood stains the edges.

He softly takes Younghyun’s hand into his and sees the bleeding knuckles, small pieces sticking out of the skinned hand. Even when he starts to pick up the small pieces, Younghyun doesn’t move.

He just does nothing.

Not when Jae heaves him to the sink to clean the wound. Not when Jae accidentally pushes one shard deeper in instead of picking it out. Not when Jae leans him back against his form again. He prompts him over and over again what happened. No answer.

“Let’s… Let’s get you home, okay?”

Jae waits and waits and suddenly, a small nod against his head and a body that leans into his warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say only a bit angst? But then again.. Younghyun is an angsty teenager, ha ha...


	6. Step...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STREAM PACMAN! I'M NOT KIDDING, GO LISTEN TO THAT SONG BECAUSE I'M CRYING HERE OVER ITS BEAUTY!
> 
> And to celebrate, here a new chapter! Author's recommendation: Listen to Pacman while reading, it really compliments the mood that I try to set.

Lost in a world that is never meant to be found, with no light guiding along a path that has never been paved, eerie silence is swallowing every sound, every plead, every buzz, an endless field with no beginning or end.

There is wind blowing through the field, the grass whipping along softly, and yet no direction or purpose can be found in the motions. No flowers, no beach, no waves, only the illusion of dust floating up into a semblance of love and hope, only for it to crumble into sand and running through lost fingers.

A world mashed together, swimming into one being, never perceived as such: an existence.

This is the world where Younghyun belongs to. A world lost to everyone, even to himself, a soul as lost with no guidance as the world he finds himself to live in.

He stares up in hopes to find something, anything, despite the blank and colorless canvas burned into his mind. His fingers reach out to touch, to reach, to remember the things that could have been.

Images of him and his mother in their bakery, only then with the warm smile on a man’s face so fond that it crumbles Younghyun’s heart. A ruffle through his hair as fingers guide him along his guitar, a master that smiles proudly to his student. A father that embraces every facet that constructs his son, face lined with acceptance and fondness that Younghyun is always able to find in his mother’s eyes.

A burning sensation fills his veins. His longing for love licking at his insides like flames engulfing everything he has believed in and making it fall to ashes, walls he has built around him in hopes to push those images far away. Only now Younghyun sees flashes of a proud smile and an embrace of acceptance merged into a simple touch through his hair, a gesture so comforting and supporting that it makes him look up to the things he wants to have and not look down to the things he had lost.

Now, Younghyun only… exists.

No dreams, no illusions, no hopes. Where he had once love and hope to guide him through the darkest nights, reality crashes in to bring him back to the ground and that harshly so.

Still, Younghyun feels like floating. Neither here nor there. Everything has lost its importance. Nothing matters anymore. Why should it though? Younghyun is just that. A boy in a town where people know better than him. A boy without a father and discipline, someone who means trouble and is no good at all. He may be talented, he may be intelligent, but who cares when he can’t be someone prideful. Honorable.

His sole existence is built upon the premise that Younghyun will never find any happiness at all. No matter how much he tries to surprise, no matter how much he tries to prove them that he is more than that, Younghyun is just that. A prisoner to a world he is lost in, caught by the illusion that there might be something immensely beautiful hidden underneath all those flowers and lights. That wishes are meant to become something wonderful and not a haunting shadow torturing him to his life’s end.

The whole ride back from the competition Jae tries to make him talk. Younghyun only looks out of the window. Jae eventually stops trying.

He enters the bakery to see his mother working hard on that cake, all dirty with frosting and flowers, with eyes that are gleaming in something wonderful that Younghyun hesitates to destroy. As such, he only sits down at the window and watches the people outside mingling, his mother’s many questions drowning in the background.

He avoids the questions of his friends. He avoids talking about that day. He avoids everything. He just… exists.

Floating.

Not swimming at the surface but not drowning as well. Just floating like one of those lights that have once been born from crumbled dust, waiting for fate to finally decide on what is going to happen to them.

Every night, his mother comes into his room and caresses his hair with worry in her eyes, asking questions Younghyun doesn’t answer. She kisses his cheek, leaves the room and then, once the night reaches its darkest hour, Younghyun hears her cry. He pushes his blanket over his head and curls into himself in hopes of drowning out that sorrowful weeping that tears his heart apart.

Every morning, his friends try every method they can think of to make him smile. They fail miserably even though Younghyun tries to fake it, only that it makes him look sadder than before.

Every afternoon, Jeongin avoids him as much as Younghyun avoids everyone else. It’s his right to do so as Younghyun is the one who has broken his promise. And not only that, because of him their team got disqualified in the competition and Jeongin’s dream destroyed by Younghyun’s inability to get his shit together.

Every evening, Younghyun faces a battle. He stares at the guitar, his fingers twitching in an urge of battering it to pieces, but then he remembers how Jae had gone out of his way to repair it, so Younghyun plays on it instead. The melodies of his guitar sound empty. His lyrics are hollow. Just like his days, only floating by. They are just that.

Existing.

~~~

“I can’t watch this anymore, Younghyun!”

It’s his mother who eventually breaks first. She throws her towel against Younghyun, swatting him half-heartedly as her brows furrow and her mouth tugs down deep. His mother is more than a head smaller than him and for the first time ever, Younghyun thinks that she is that.

Before, his mother had this personality where her presence took in the whole room and made her so much bigger than everyone else in there. Now, she clutches at his shirt and nearly curls into herself, so desperate and broken.

Younghyun has seen her only once like that. And that was when his father had decided to leave his family without a word or explanation. A woman clutching at her child's shirt, trying not to break down to a confused Younghyun, still so innocent and blind to the cruelty of this world.

She swats him against the chest again, no power behind it all. “You eat so little. You stopped going out with your friends. Your grades are getting worse. You stopped smiling. What happened on that day? Why are you like that?”

And Younghyun knows what it feels like to ask yourself so many questions that you can’t answer and no one there to guide you to it. Why are things happening as they do? Why are people like how they are? Why did his father leave him without a word?

_What is wrong with him?_

Is his mother wondering about the same things? Does she know more than she ever told him? Does Younghyun even want to hear the answers?

He doesn’t know. It’s confusing. It’s hard. It’s tearing him apart.

One thing, however, he does know: he can’t do the same to his mother. Not when her eyes tear up and her face crumbles into so many lines of worry. Younghyun has already disappointed so many people in his life, but his mother had always been the hardest one to take. He could never deliberately hurt her.

So, he pushes her hands apart to bring her down with him, clutching at her waist and pushing his head into her chest, wallowing in the instant rush of comfort that only a mother’s embrace can bring, breathing and breaking at the same time. Her hands come around his shoulders and one finds its way into his hair, just how she had always done when Younghyun was a child and mourned over the loss of his father.

“I saw dad.” He feels her body tensing at the small confession while his own shoulders slump down from the freeing weight. “I saw dad at the competition.”

“Oh, Younghyunnie…” Despite the way her heart beats so fast, Younghyun can still hear the worry laced in her voice. Younghyun doesn’t deserve her, she is too good for him.

And the words finally spill from his lips after being stuck there for far too long.

“I saw him there with a boy. Someone younger than me, a middle school boy. He was so happy with him. And that woman. She was beautiful and smiling and—and—I could only watch them how they laughed at something together. Like a family.”

He chokes on a sudden sob as the tears spill out of his eyes, a dam broken with the endless flow of his words. All the things haunting him in the night are finally out in the open and Younghyun finally free of their suppressing weight.

“Why did he do that, Mom? Why did he leave us for another family? Wasn’t I good enough? What did I do wrong? I’m so sorry, it’s my fault, I’m so—”

“Younghyun-ah.”

A simple word, a whisper so firm and so warm that Younghyun quietens instantly. His fingers clutch at her back as he presses his face deep into her shoulder, trying to hide the pathetic sobs from her.

“It’s not your fault, Younghyunnie. Your father loved you so much—”

“But why did he stop? Why did he leave us?”

“Sometimes, things aren’t meant to be. I don’t know why, my son, only that someday he decided that this isn’t the life he wants to live. And we have to respect that.”

“But aren’t we the same as the other family?”

“No, Younghyun.” She presses a chaste on his head. Then one again. “We are much different. Because they don’t have such a lovely boy like I have.”

“He still left us.”

“I know. I know, my son.”

He sniffs. Hugs her tighter. Kisses her shoulder. “I love you, mom.”

A kiss on his forehead.

“I love you, too, Younghyunnie. So much.”

~~~

Every Sunday, no matter what, Younghyun comes to the bakery and helps his mother. He comes in early in the morning, bakes the biscuits for Jae, helps her opening up the shop, manages the counter until they close, then goes home and eats something for dinner.

This Sunday is no different. Younghyun finishes his baking round and tugs the biscuits into a bag with a heavy heart. Ever since the competition, he hasn’t really talked to his teacher. The usual small talk, sure, but it’s still underlined with that tension that keeps him strung tight, that makes pleasantries much unpleasant.

He is on his way out to the front when he hears voices talking, stopping short when he realizes that they are talking about him. A glimpse to the table and Younghyun sees his mother in a chair, a steaming cup of coffee between her hands, the man opposite of her doing the same.

A warm and sad expression on his face, no smile that Younghyun loves to see on his lips. Somber somewhat, Younghyun thinks as he watches Jae’s face intently. Only then does he hear his mother’s voice sounding through the air, quiet and full of sorrow.

“Younghyun was six when his father left us. For me, it was a gradual process that had then peaked but for Younghyunnie, it was from one moment to another. Poor child was looking for his father the next day, confused and then crying when I explained to him that his father will never come back.”

“He didn’t know better,” Jae agrees warmly, sipping on his coffee. His eyes flit over to the door but Younghyun quickly hides behind it, sliding slowly down to listen in on the conversation.

“He still doesn’t,” his mother wistfully adds. “To this day, he thinks it’s his fault. It broke my heart listening to his confusion as to why he hasn’t been enough-- why his father stopped loving him. And it broke my heart even further to tell him that I don’t know.” A short sniff his mother always does to keep her composure. A noise Younghyun has heard so many times before. “I wish I could say him that his father still loves him as much as on his day of birth, but I can’t lie to my son. I don’t know what is going on in his father’s head, I don’t know why he has fallen out of love with me, only that he did.”

His mother sobs and Younghyun gets it. The way his heart breaks listening to his mother’s pain mixed with the immense wish of taking it all away from her. For as long as Younghyun is shouldering his own pain he is well aware of his mother’s guilt at the same time. His mother is warm and opens her heart for Younghyun to find solace in, but still, every night Younghyun feels the distance between them, an endless field with no flowers but so much pain blooming across.

“Life is sometimes like that.” Jae’s own voice has so much pain in it, quiet and warm, nonetheless. “Some things are never meant to be. Some people love and then fall out of it. Some people don’t. Feelings change. We’ll never know until we try, and if it doesn’t work out, we have to respect the decision. There is a time and a place for things to happen and maybe it hadn’t been the right time for him.”

“But what should I tell Younghyun? I can’t explain to him why his father had run away from us to settle down with another family. I can’t explain why he did the things he did. I just don’t know, but I don’t want Younghyun to feel so heartbroken and guilty about it.”

His mother’s cries fill the silence in the bakery. Her sobs tear through Younghyun’s inside, filling the void with so much guilt and regret. Once again, he proves to be a burden for his mother, one that brings tears to her eyes and desperation to her voice. Younghyun wishes he could take her pain away, tell her that it’s okay. That Younghyun will be a better person from now on.

He wishes so much he would have talked to his father. Ask him for answers, to finally have this clarity of why things happened as they did. Younghyun wants to stop floating, drifting, he wants to finally follow the sound of an ocean afar, wandering through fields filled with so many flowers and lights dancing in the sky. He wants to see a sky full of stars again.

“Acceptance.” Simple. Jae says it as if it is simple like that, the solution to everything. “There’s nothing left to do than accept things as they are and move on. You both don’t have the power to find all answers. No human on earth can find the answer to all questions, so we just have to humbly accept that there are things in this world that can’t be explained. Accept it, move on and live your life to the fullest. Younghyun has so much potential and talent, it would be a waste to let him drift away like that.”

Younghyun leans his head against his knees, hiding his eyes behind his hands to hide his own tears rolling down along his cheeks, biting on his lips to keep quiet.

Simple as that, something that is easier said than done.

That night, Younghyun doesn’t lie in his bed and stares at the ceiling while he listens to his mother’s sobs. That night, Younghyun pads along the hallway, opens slowly the door to his mother’s bedroom and lies down next to her, burying her head into his chest and kissing it. He lets her cry even though she tries to hide it, lets his own tears slide down along his cheeks, a quiet promise whispered into her hair.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

~~~

(“I’m sorry, Wonpil. I kinda left you hanging the last few weeks.”

“I’m just glad that you called. Is everything alright again?”

“No, I don’t think so. I won’t be okay for a long time.”

“… What happened?”

“Everything, I guess. I’ve never been okay… only existed instead of living.”

“Kinda like a zombie?”

“You read my lyrics again?”

“Have to. How else do I know what is going on in that head of yours?”

“You’re a good friend, y’know? I’m glad that I met you.”

“You wanna make me cry? Because that’s how you make me cry.”

“Please, don’t. I’m gonna cry with you then.”

“Younghyun-hyung?”

“Yes?”

“This plan of yours… winning over teacher Park’s heart?”

“Yes? What about it?”

“…Nothing. I was just curious with finals on the way and everything.”

“Ah… I gave up, to be honest.”

“What? Why?”

“At first because—well, he is my friend, I guess? I mean, he’s eomma’s friend and he helps me with everything, so I thought I don’t want to lose that for my infatuation with him. But then… he got me thinking again.”

“Younghyun… Do you love him?”

“More than anything in this world.”

“Then finally get him.”)

~~~

Sunlight filters into the room, painting everything in a romantic orange and red. Younghyun plucks on the strings of his guitar, listening to the different chords he plays, again and again to drown out the loud heartbeat in his chest.

After his math lesson he left a small package of biscuits with a note attached to it on the desk of his teacher, asking him to meet him in the music room after lessons are finished. He plays and plays and tries not to lose hope as time goes by, one hour melts into two and two into three. Younghyun should have been long home by now. His mother probably worries at how cold it gets outside on this late October evening and Younghyun waddling through said cold in his light clothes.

His phone vibrates with the tenth message his mother sends him, but Younghyun ignores it. This is important. He would wait for as long as he has to, as long as he has the courage to do what he wants to.

Three slowly becomes three and a half hours when the door suddenly slides open, and his teacher stands there out of breath.

“Sorry—I—many parents.”

Younghyun smiles brightly at the insinuation that Jae has ran all the way here because Younghyun is waiting for him. He cares so much, maybe there is some hope for Younghyun. He doesn’t hide his blush on his cheeks, only smiles at Jae with so much happiness surging through his veins.

“Hi.” His voice is soft, a meek whisper in a silent room.

Jae looks taken aback, confused as he whispers his own ‘hi’ back. “You wanted to talk to me?” Jae closes the door behind him and stays a good distance away from Younghyun, much to the latter’s disappointment.

“You came.” He takes a step closer after he puts his guitar away, still smiling brightly at his teacher.

“I did.” Surprise melts into more confusion.

A step closer. “Can I call you Jae?” Younghyun whispers in English.

“Why are you asking?”

Another step. The faint sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“I want to thank you, Jae.”

Jae shakes his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

Then another step. The smell of the sun, of waves and the beach. The smell of summer hitting Younghyun’s nose. “You did so much.”

“I really don’t—”

“You listen to my mother without judging her.” Another step. “You listen to me without judging me.” It’s warm in his presence. Younghyun can feel his warmth radiating off like a fresh summer day. “You comfort me when I’m sad. You guide me through my darkest hours. You keep me happy when I think that I can be that.” Another step. Jae is within arm’s reach. Younghyun has never been so close before.

“Younghyun, I don’t think—”

“You listen to my music. You listen to everything I say and everything that I don’t. You believe in my best even when I’m at my worst.” His fingers reach for Jae’s lapels only for his wrists getting caught by Jae’s long fingers. “You tell me to stop bowing. You tell me to keep my head up. You teach me how to be happy.”

“Younghyun, don’t—”

“ _You_ make me happy.”

And then, Younghyun surges forward to capture Jae’s lips with his own. It’s only a small peck though there are no words to describe that feeling rushing through his veins as he finally does what he wanted to for so long. His heart soars up into the sky and higher, plucking all the stars and even the moon from the sky to put them into Jae’s hand along with itself.

The moment is frozen, time is frozen as Younghyun just rests his lips on Jae’s, only a small peck but with so much meaning, so many feelings put in it. And because the first time felt so good, he does it again, this time resting a tad bit longer.

Younghyun has his eyes closed to relish in the feelings of lips pressing against lips. Jae’s lips are so plush and soft against Younghyun’s small and dry ones. And then Younghyun wonders, how do they taste?

Excitement thrums through his veins as his hand finds its way into Jae’s hair at his neck, the other cradling Jae’s cheek to guide his lips once again against his and this time, Younghyun dares to move his lips against Jae’s frozen ones, tasting him for a small moment.

A moment in bliss, a moment so perfect that everything aligns. Where he has once looked up to see a blank canvas instead of the sky, he now stands in a field of flowers and lights floating up to where all the stars of the universe can be seen, the faint rush of the ocean so near him.

Everything in his mind does its best to memorize this moment for eternity, a moving image captured with feelings and sensual information that feel as hot as fire. Younghyun’s heart blooms and happiness follows where excitement has once been.

Only until Younghyun leans back to surge forward once again, when Jae’s hands suddenly grab Younghyun’s cheek and keep him where he is, halting his kisses and lightly pushing him away from Jae, who then ducks his head.

Dread. Fear. Younghyun doesn’t want this. He isn’t foolish. He had once hoped for eternity and got rejected, even got replaced by another person, but it wasn't like this. Not when this feels like he found something lost.

“Younghyun—” Jae sounds so broken, so apologetic, so sorrowful and guilty. Younghyun doesn’t want this.

He grabs Jae’s hands to keep them on his cheeks, to keep this moment for his memory. He has to fight for it. He wants it so much.

“I love you.” There it is, the absolute truth of Younghyun’s happiness. The one thing that is left of his ridiculous plan to do; to confess and wait for rejection with so much hope that his feelings are maybe reciprocated after all. “I love you, Jae. I love—”

“Stop it.”

And Younghyun does. Because he then sees the sadness in Jae’s eyes, the mistake of a man who wonders where things have gone wrong, the question of where admiration turned into infatuation. It never was. For Younghyun, it has always been love.

“No, I won’t stop. That’s what I feel. About you. I love—”

“Younghyun, no.” The hands leave his face and Jae takes a step back, putting some distance between them. “This—This can’t happen.” His hands rub over his face and then into his hair, the strands that had melted into deep red long ago. “I’m your teacher, for fuck’s sake.”

Younghyun shakes his head. He doesn’t want to hear any of this. “I don’t care that I’m your student. I don’t care that you are my teacher. I can love who I want, and I want you.”

Jae tugs at his hair in desperation. “This is wrong. It matters that you are my student. I am seven years older than you. You are a minor! I am your authority, I should be someone who guides you and not someone who is your lover. In no way can this happen now!”

Younghyun flinches back at the raised voice. Jae never gets like this. Even when Younghyun was out of his mind punching someone Jae hasn’t sounded like this. Hurt fills him more than dread, especially at the words that Jae is hauling at him.

“But I—”

“Younghyun, no.” Jae heaves a heavy sigh, looking so defeated and regretful. It rips his heart out of his chest, Younghyun wants to cry. He actually does tear up. “Look, I shouldn’t have been that nice to you. I should have kept my distance and just be your teacher. I just thought that with my help you will aspire to become something great. I’m sorry that you fell for me. I never wanted this to happen.”

His tears start to stream down his face. “So… you don’t see me that way at all?”

Jae grimaces. “I—I’m your teacher, Younghyun. I can’t be anything more.”

_Anything more._

“Nothing at all?” He can’t see through the blurriness of his tears anymore. He ducks his head down, looking down to his feet. He can’t bear the sight of Jae looking so torn and desperate anymore.

“Younghyun…”

“Why?” He crosses his arms over his chest to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest in pain. It hurts. “Why don’t you love me?”

“Please don’t ask like that.”

Breaking apart. Crumbling into dust.

“Why not? Am I that unlovable?”

“That’s not what I—”

“It’s okay.” _It’s not._ “I can’t force you to feel something. I’m sorry.”

_I’m so sorry._

“Hey, don’t say that you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” And then, Younghyun bows, deeply, to keep his tears away from his teacher’s sight. “Thank you for everything, teacher-nim—” His voice breaks when he feels a hand in his hair, and he flinches back. His eyes meet accidentally those of Jae’s, eyes filled with so much sorrow and desperation that it breaks Younghyun even more.

And he does the only thing he can do best in such situations: he runs. He runs out of the room, out of school, he just runs away from everything, right into the arms of the one person who can bear his pain.

Or so he wishes. Instead, he crashes into someone on his way and falls on his back, hiding his tears and sobs behind his hands as good as possible. The town doesn’t need any more material for the rumor mill.

“Younghyun?”

And thank god that the person he ran into is his friend.

“I fucked up, Sungjin. I fucked up.”

~~~

“I wish I could say ‘I told you so’, but then I would feel like an ass.” Sungjin sighs deeply as he leans against his bedroom window while Younghyun hugs Sungjin’s pillow deep into his chest, drying his tears with the pack of tissues Sungjin has thrown into his face.

Jae’s words are still echoing through Younghyun’s mind and heart. To be rejected like that, having thrown all the things he chose to ignore back into his face—Younghyun should have been wiser. They all did tell him so. His mom, Dowoon, Sungjin and even Wonpil, they all pointed out the thing that is his downfall.

After all, Younghyun is only a boy, not worthy enough to be loved by the one man who gave him all of his kindness, only for it to be mistaken as love. A god damn fool, that he is. Younghyun should be ashamed.

“Stop crying, please,” Sungjin chokes as his own eyes gleam with wetness.

Younghyun hides his face into the pillow. Like that, Sungjin doesn’t have to see his pitiful face. He must look ugly when crying. “Sorry.”

He feels the bed dipping down next to him, then an arm slinging around his shoulder to bring Younghyun in to a side-hug. Sungjin’s cheek is warm against his head.

“You have to see it positively.”

“How are you able to see anything positive in there?”

“He never said he doesn’t have any feelings for you, right?”

Younghyun heaves his head to stare at Sungjin, then deadpans, “He rejected me. That is equivalent to having no feelings.”

A hum in thought. “He said it’s wrong because he is your teacher. Because he is older and you are still a minor.”

“He _rejected_ —”

“Why are you so goddamn difficult, huh?” Sungjin groans and tackles Younghyun into the bed. His arms press Younghyun against his chest too hard, his breath leaving his lungs and never coming back. “Here I try to make you see the other’s side and you are too stubborn to actually listen to me.”

Thank god Sungjin lets go of him. “I still don’t get you.”

“Well, what would you do if you were in teacher Park’s shoes? Just imagine. Your student that you are helping and actually befriending ends up kissing and confessing to you. It doesn’t matter what you feel, he just can’t act on any feelings here. He can only either be your teacher or your lover, not both. It doesn’t work morally or ethically or in any other way. And on top of that, what will people think of him?”

Younghyun knows. He knows all of this, knows what it means and knows about the consequences. Younghyun is one big consequence of ‘what will people think’ after all. And to think that Younghyun has been this close to yank Jae into that disaster that is his life.

“Ouch!” Younghyun flinches when Sungjin suddenly flicks against his forehead.

“You always arrive to the wrong conclusions, dummy,” he chides him motherly, laying down next to him to stare up to the ceiling.

There are stars shining on Sungjin’s ceiling. Once, Dowoon had gifted the older stickers so that Sungjin has something to light up his nights after he'd confessed feeling down during nighttime. It’s poetic in a way that clenches Younghyun’s heartstrings. A pure and warm gift that has just been ripped out of Younghyun’s hands together with the smell of summer on a warm day at the beach.

“Let’s get out of this town.”

Younghyun abruptly sits up when Sungjin throws in his suggestion just like that, no warning, no heads-up, no teaser.

“What the hell?”

Sungjin chuckles, dragging Younghyun back down to the bed again. “Not like running away. More like… I have a crazy idea. I wanted to ask you guys together tomorrow anyway, but I think that you need this. So, let’s get out of this town, this people, all of our problems.”

“But isn’t this just running away?”

Sungjin shrugs, then throws a smile to Younghyun. “I would call it taking care of our future.”

“Ok,” Younghyun slowly nods. He watches Sungjin’s face and sees something in it that he can’t put his finger on. He doesn’t have to, though. Sungjin is his friend. Younghyun trusts him. “Tell me about it.”

Sungjin’s smile then melts into a bright grin. “What are you doing this Saturday?”

~~~

Winter is cold. A thick blanket of snow lays on the town’s street and on Younghyun’s flowerless field, painting the world in an eerily and yet idyllic landscape. It’s beautiful. The silence that the snow brings with it, the coldness that sweeps into the deepest bone and thankfully numbs every warm feeling.

Winter is cold. Younghyun loves the coldness right now. A broken heart is not meant to be on fire, not when fire can’t decide whether it burns out of grief or anger. Anger about the world’s unfair judgements, grief about the things he isn’t allowed to have.

Ever since his confession, Younghyun avoids Jae like the pest. He leaves the room after class immediately, he takes the other way when he sees Jae in the hallway, he misses math club because he doesn’t need a second pair of eyes that glare at him, and he doesn’t work at the bakery every Sunday anymore, not that he has to bother with it since Jae avoids him all the same.

(His mother is very sad about the sudden loss of a friend. Once Younghyun explained her the situation, her sadness turned into anger. She had nearly run all the way to Jae to slap some sense into him.)

His friends try to do their best to cheer up Younghyun. They help him with his avoidance techniques, try to redirect his love for Jae to a new crush on anyone who is a student (Younghyun, please, anyone is better at this point, Dowoon pleads with him). And on really bad days, Wonpil and Dowoon remind him of the simple fact that Jae didn't deny any feelings, something that falls deaf on Younghyun’s ears. He is lost in his own world of pain.

It hurts when Jae doesn’t look at him, it hurts when he passes Younghyun in the hallway without a greeting, it hurts when Jae laughs in a conversation with one of his classmates, it hurts when Younghyun plays on his guitar with the memory of Jae sticking to it. Younghyun wants it to stop as it slowly eats him away from the inside.

Instead, he pours every feeling into his notebook. Lyrics about break-ups because Younghyun makes up a world where he and Jae had been together and then not, lyrics about letting go of what he has once loved because Younghyun longs for the moment where the pain fades away into a content hum of what has once been.

He starts to feel restless, waiting for confirmation that he can leave the town and everything with it behind. The moment he can have a fresh start, a clean cut, everything to forget and invent himself new.

For once, Younghyun wants to be selfish. He doesn’t want to disappoint, he doesn’t want to surprise, he just wants to… survive. From existing to surviving and eventually living. Breathing in the scent of the beach without thinking of summer, running through a field of flower without searching for someone chasing behind.

People come. People leave. But the town never changes. Younghyun can’t remain unchanged anymore. He is different, a prisoner of his demons that only have been small shadows before, sitting in a field of snow where no flower has a chance to survive.

And then, one day when Younghyun comes back home from a very hard exam, his heart starts to race when he sniffs the scent of something burning, running to the oven in the kitchen to take out the black ashes that should have been cookies.

“Mom!”

Younghyun finds her in the living room. Her eyes are so big when she looks up to him, a mix of awe and fear in her gaze that makes Younghyun wonder what paper she is holding in her hands.

“Your cookies are burnt,” Younghyun says helplessly when his mother only continues to stare at him. “What is that in your hand?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” Her voice trembles. She looks so vulnerable and small like this, kneeling in front of the small couch table with that letter in her hand. “Why are they offering you a place in their company?”

No. This can’t be… can it?

“Who?” Younghyun can’t help but sound excited. His heart runs faster at the thought that he did it.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

“Younghyunnie? What is going on here? Why is this JYP Entertain—”

His mother nearly falls down when Younghyun crashes into her with loud laughter. It feels like some weight lifts from his shoulder hearing this. He tears the letter out of her fingers and reads it by himself, his heart beating higher with every sentence he hears.

“Dear Kang Younghyun-ssi, congratulations on passing our auditions. We would kindly offer you a position as an idol trainee in our company. Please—Oh my god, they want me! Mom, they want me!”

Once again, he crushes his mother in another hug, kissing her face again and again and again. His mother, still confused, starts laughing at the sheer happiness radiating off of Younghyun.

“Younghyun, I don’t understand. What is this?”

“Remember when my friends and I travelled to Seoul?” His mother nods. “Well, we actually went down there to take part in idol company auditions. And JYPE? It’s one of the big three, mom! They are the first one who offer me a place. I have the chance to be an idol. I can sing and compose and—I have a future. I have a future!”

“Oh my god.” Now his mother crushes Younghyun against her chest, laughing and actually crying out of happiness. “My son is going to be a famous star!”

“First I have to survive—”

“You can do it, my son! You can be whatever you want to be and if you want to be an idol, no one will stop you. No one! I will slap anyone who puts my son down with a towel, okay?”

Younghyun doesn’t deserve his mother. That wonderful, hard-working and warm woman that hasn’t ever stopped believing in Younghyun. No matter what he wants, what he aspires to do, what he dreams to be, his mother would stand first row and cheer for him the loudest.

Maybe now Younghyun has the chance to pay her back.

“I don’t want to leave you alone here, though,” he tries to argue against his own happiness, but his mother wouldn’t have anything of it.

“I’m not alone! I have a small town in whose faces I can rub your success into. Ever since that wedding cake, people are ordering more and more. Your mother can finally hire someone who isn’t her own son. Just you see, my bakery will be the best in the whole god damn country once you promote me in the TV.”

His mother is the best. She puts a smile on his face, no matter what. “Are you sure?”

“Go and make your mother proud.”

“I promise, mom.”

A small light in the middle of a field, a small light that isn’t enough yet but can still guide him to a place where flowers can grow again. Once spring arrives, the snow can melt and something beautiful will be blooming again.

His mother releases Younghyun from her hug when they both hear something from outside. Then again.

“Hyung!”

“Dowoon?” Younghyun runs outside to see Dowoon jumping on the other side of the fence, a bright beam on his face. “What is it?”

“Sungjin-hyung says you should look at your goddamn phone!”

And indeed, the message that arrived minutes ago is still displayed. Younghyun’s heart flips at the small snippet he can read. “Oh my god!”

Soon, Younghyun has his arms full of Dowoon, both jumping in excitement up and down and cheering in gleeful happiness.

“Sungjin’s in!” Dowoon whoops as he explains to Younghyun’s mother.

“Oh, he too?”

“What?”

Younghyun smiles sheepishly. “I kinda got in, too.”

“Does that mean…”

“Wonpil?”

One light is enough to guide him through the night but a whole field of stars is what Younghyun now reaches for. A future bright ahead, a wish to keep going, a goal to finally go forward to.

It’s freeing to have something to look forward to because all the sudden, Younghyun isn’t so lost anymore.

~~~

(“I’m in! I’m fucking in, Younghyun!”

“Kim Wonpil, I’m freaking out here!”

“Who would have guessed that we all three make it?”

“I guessed. My hyungs are made to be idols.”

“Ah, such a bummer that our maknae hasn’t auditioned with us.”

“I’m only good in drumming, nothing more.”

“Yah, don’t be like that. I can hear you singing sometimes when you leave the window open.”

“Yeah, Younghyun once sent us a recording. This was so good, really!”

“Dowoonie’s blushing! How cu~te!”

“S-Stop it!”)

~~~

Things go fast then. Letters are being sent. Emails being exchanged and soon enough Younghyun walks into school with a heart much lighter and a smile so bright at the thought of freedom within his reach. His company already organized a room for him to live in, his schedule, his new school and uniform and so many other different things that grow much above Younghyun’s head.

For him, the only thing left to do is to survive those last hours and bid his good-byes to the few people that matter. He can’t concentrate on school stuff anymore, not when his mind is far away in the big city of Seoul where he has the chance to become an entirely different person.

Bid good-bye to the old Younghyun and welcome… well whoever he will be. That’s a thought for another day.

“I don’t want to leave you behind, Dowoonie!” Wonpil throws himself onto Dowoon, fake-crying into his shoulder.

Dowoon reciprocates the hug warmly, laughing with a few tears of his own. “I’ll visit you as often as I can, hyung. But please, stop crying.”

“I still can’t believe that we did it,” Sungjin sighs wistfully, a small smile growing on his lips. “But look at Younghyun, it’s like he’s glowing up.”

Younghyun pats against his cheek to hide his blush, trying to stifle down his own smile. “Of course, I am! I’m going to be an idol! First thing I’m gonna ask for is a new hair color!”

“How about pink?” Wonpil quickly suggests that horrific color to which Sungjin grimaces.

“What’s so wrong about your black hair? I think it’s nice.”

At least Dowoon has a helpful idea. “How about blond?”

“Maybe.”

Blond is a nice color. Only that for Younghyun, blond is something he connects to a certain someone. In his memories, in his dreams, no matter where else, Younghyun always sees Jae as blond and not red haired. Red haired is also a nice look on him, any look, really, no lying, Jae rocks every hair color. It’s just that somehow blond is what Younghyun associates him with.

The beach. Summer. Freedom. All of that Younghyun can see in that simple color. Maybe he will really consider it.

“I don’t think we’ll have much say in how we’ll look like,” Sungjin—rational as ever—throws in and gets Younghyun back from his dreams.

“As much as I like to discuss this with you—” Younghyun picks up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. It’s heavy with all the books packed inside that he has to bring back to the library. It only adds more to the weight of his guitar over his shoulder, another thing that is leaving with him.

What would Younghyun be without his guitar? Nothing, right?

“—I have places to be.”

Late afternoon and there is only one person left to say good-bye to. Actually two, but Younghyun isn’t very keen on talking to him that soon again. The clock ticks down, nearly evening as the sun sets on the horizon, a scenery much reminiscent of the tragedy that had once happened in here.

“Don’t forget. 6 a.m. sharp, otherwise we’ll leave you behind.”

“I won’t Wonpil! And tell your mom thanks from me!”

Tomorrow morning, Younghyun will be gone. His clothes are packed, his mother cooks him a nice farewell meal, Wonpil’s parents rented the minivan for their stuff and will drive them all the way down to Seoul. Maybe Younghyun can convince them to stop at that one place where he had eaten those delicious burgers. Or maybe not.

Maybe that wonderful taste was from something entirely else.

Standing in front of that door strikes Younghyun with a sense of déjà vu. The door is still the same, unchanging ever since the first time Younghyun was frozen in front of it. The numbers, the light flooding through the gap, the twinge of his heartstrings.

The first time, Younghyun had come with a plan that was doomed from the beginning. Step two of winning over his teacher, although said teacher would never look twice his way. Younghyun is too young, Younghyun is a student, Younghyun just isn’t the right person for teacher Park Jaehyung.

Just how the proverb states, love is blind. Has made Younghyun blind to all the wrongs and faults that comes with loving Park Jaehyung. He regrets confessing, but he most regrets losing a very good friend. Younghyun has lost someone who tried to guide him through the darkness. A light brighter than any star, a sun.

How can Younghyun, the darkness that crumbles everything into dust, the storm that sweeps off everything within in his vicinity, deserve the love of someone so—good, perfect, pure?

Today is the last time standing in front of the door.

The last time, Younghyun comes with a plan, too. Only this time, his plan doesn’t have any steps to it, doesn’t try to win over his teacher and won’t allow for said teacher to look even once at Younghyun. Younghyun is about to enter an entirely different world, far away from the town that has doomed him to be that underserving child.

Nothing can hold him back from following that small flicker of light that is his only way to freedom.

Younghyun slides the door open in one swift motion, louder than intended, quieting the discussing voices of three boys. Teacher Park looks up from his seat at the corner of the room, then guides his look back to the book in his hands. Not once looking twice at him as Younghyun is already used to. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

The math club members glare holes into Younghyun’s face, well, two of them while Jeongin mimics Jae’s strategy of avoiding Younghyun’s gaze. Jeongin’s eyes are set on the paper in front of him, empty lines everywhere, his finger scratching against the soft surface of the pen.

“What do you want, Kang?” One of the boys sneers at him very unfriendly and earns a small tut from Jae. It’s not that Younghyun doesn’t deserve it. He left them hanging at the competition for reasons that he can’t explain to them, and then never went back to the club meetings to apologize. He doesn’t know if Jae told them anything, but Younghyun guesses not.

Younghyun owes them an apologize. At least to Jeongin. It was his dream Younghyun had thrown stones at, it was his promise Younghyun had broken. So, he does the only appropriate thing to do in that situation and slowly puts his bags onto the floor, gets down to his knees and rests his head gently on the floor.

Someone above him gasps.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could explain to you what happened at the competition, but I—I can’t. Something threw me off and I couldn’t—I couldn’t go back in there. I’m sorry that I just left, I’m sorry that I broke my promise to you, I’m sorry that I never came back to apologize. I guessed—I thought, you don’t want to see me anymore after all the things I did.”

The floor is disgusting. All dust and dirt and here Younghyun is, pressing his forehead against this disgusting ground, his palm feeling every last grain sticking to it.

Seconds tick by. Silence blankets them as the room takes on a deep shade of red, as heavy and thick as the tension in the room. His heart beats heavily in his chest by being so close to Jae, so close to the fear of getting rejected once again. He closes his eyes as the silence drags on, bearing down on him and stealing every last breath.

Until finally, Jeongin speaks up, his voice small from the chair he is still sitting in.

“You’re right. I don’t want to see you right now.”

It’s okay. Younghyun deserves this. He hasn’t treated Jeongin any better, avoided him as much as he could in his self-pity and running away from the problems around him. It’s okay, Younghyun says to himself again because what else should he do?

His fear comes alive and eats at him during the dark nights. Now, however, daylight is still shining upon them, even if it’s small, and Younghyun has a few words left to say. His plead for forgiveness is unwelcomed, his existence unwanted in this room. Not much left to do here, only that one small thing.

Younghyun slowly sits back and dusts off the dirt from his palm and forehead, reaching for his bag and guitar to shoulder them once again. He tries a smile that is weak on his lips as his mouth trembles and his breath comes ragged.

“Then it’s good that I won’t come back again. Even better—” Younghyun laughs and maybe it sounds even sad to his ears. “—You don’t have to ever see me again. As of today, I’m leaving this club. I’m changing schools. Actually, I’m leaving town, so I guess you don’t have to see my face ever again.”

A burning sensation against the side of his head. Don’t get weak, don’t look to the side, don’t catch Jae watching him. This isn’t about Jae anymore, this is about Younghyun finding closure for the one person he thought he could protect and guide.

To apologize for his faults to the person he shouldn’t have faulted in the first place.

“This is farewell then.” He heaves his arms for a last wave, receiving only two disbelieving stares from the people that don’t matter to him, and walks out of the room with an even heavier heart.

He shouldn’t have done this. Coming here and apologizing has been a bad idea, really. It only got him a lighter conscience and a heavier heart by being rejected once again by someone who has grown close to Younghyun’s heart.

But just then, his way out is stopped by a sharp tug on his sleeve. Younghyun whirls around to see the eyes of Jeongin tearing up.

“Jeongin?”

Yet, Jeongin only stands there and holds his sleeve, his gaze flittering from Younghyun’s face to the ground, tugging harder on the sleeve until his forehead falls into Younghyun’s chest. Younghyun feels Jeongin trembling and puts his arms around in comfort, pressing the boy further into him.

And lets him cry.

“I didn’t mean it, hyung! Please, don’t leave the town. Please, stay! Don’t leave me alone, please!” Jeongin repeats again and again into Younghyun’s chest, his voice so small and desperate.

“Jeongin,” Younghyun whisper into his hair. His hand caresses the boy’s back with a soothing motion to calm him down, just like his mother always does. “I have to leave this town. I’m sorry.”

Jeongin suddenly pushes him away put still holds his top, fists clenching to keep him there. “Why? Why do you have to leave?”

“Because I can’t be happy here.” Jeongin starts sobbing at Younghyun’s words, his tears flowing with no stop. Younghyun does what he knows best: he cards his hand through Jeongin’s hair, tugging lightly at his strands to make him look up into Younghyun’s soft smile. “I don’t belong to this world. I have to go if I want to be free.”

“What about me? You promised me to be by my side when I win that trophy.”

“Then call me and I’m coming as fast as I can.”

“Promise?”

Younghyun smiles ruefully. “I promise to try.”

And then, Younghyun sees something in Jeongin’s eyes that seems familiar, that strikes something within him so deep. A determination that sets into his eyes and stops the tears, a shine in his eyes that feels so warm to see and yet so vulnerable and easy to break.

Younghyun knows this face but he hasn’t ever seen it on someone else before.

“Hyung, I—”

And suddenly, Younghyun’s hand pushes Jeongin’s face down, stopping something that may have caused more damage than good.

“Don’t.” Younghyun sees the oncoming of a blush, sees the new flood of tears flowing down those cheeks, this time a different kind of pain than before. “I can’t… I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Somehow, this feels like closure. Somehow, this feels like a beginning at the same time.

Somehow…

It's the same as before.

~~~

“Where’re you leaving to?”

A town unchanging, a deep pressure that takes every space to breath, judging Younghyun and making him someone he doesn’t want to be. Time changes, people change, yet that town stays unchanging to its core.

To this day, Younghyun hasn’t considered that, in fact, the town did actually change a bit.

Last spring, a kind-hearted man who looked so different, fresh and warm, moved into town and wandered into Younghyun’s life just like that. Smiling, funny, a small light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

All the sudden, Younghyun has felt something akin to hope. A way to find freedom in something different, that fulfills him deeply by loving the one thing that isn’t a construct of this town.

The arrival of Park Jaehyung has set something into motion that made Younghyun go through hell and then come back as a changed man. He is now someone whose wishes for happiness grew so strong that he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He is thankful in a way that he now reaches for something so much better than he believes to deserve, he is angry in a way that he longs for the times he was blind to the wrongs of the world.

Last spring, Park Jaehyung has wandered into Younghyun’s life just like that. This winter, it is Younghyun who leaves it behind.

Next spring will be a spring without Park Jaehyung again.

And that’s okay. It’s painful and it hurts, but it’s okay.

There is a time and place for everything, Jae has once said. Maybe, for Younghyun and Jae, time hasn’t arrived yet.

Park Jaehyung. What else is left to say about this man?

He looks beautiful in his padded winter coat, waiting at the fence for Younghyun, looking just like every other boy in this school.

“Seoul.”

It's their first time talking to each other since the confession. Younghyun’s heart blooms as much as it breaks, seeing Park Jaehyung for the probably last time in his life.

“What’chu gonna do there?”

Younghyun smiles. He smiles in happiness, he smiles in sadness, fear and so many different other emotions overwhelming him. And yet, he smiles.

“Live.”

And Jae? Jae smiles brightly back, beautiful, pretty—how can Younghyun ever forget that? It reminds him only of how much he loves him, will ever love him for all the things he has done.

“That sounds good.”

Younghyun suddenly wants to know. Has to know. His heart flutters. His fingers twitch. His breath hitches.

“I’m not your student anymore.”

Jae cocks his head. Not in confusion. Not in anger. There is something in his eyes, somber and yet gleaming. A small light.

“Right.”

His fingers reach out, grasping the lapels of Jae’s coat and bringing his face down to Younghyun's. Their breaths mingle, white puffs seen in the coldness of the world, a small lantern lighting up the dark evening. No sun at the sky and yet, so warm and so bright.

“I love you,” Younghyun whispers against the lips, hesitating to take that final leap.

Jae’s fingers suddenly enclose around Younghyun’s wrist, not tugging, only holding. Their noses rub against each other, slow and endearingly affectionate.

“We can’t do this, Younghyun. Not now.”

Still, Jae brushes his lips against Younghyun’s, a short touch only shy of a peck, enough to make Younghyun’s heart go mad.

“One night. Give me one night.” Younghyun wants to know. He wants to know if Sungjin and Wonpil are right. He wants to know if he is only imagining things. He wants to know if he can hope. He presses his lips softly against Jae’s. Then again. “Give me one night and then I’ll forget you.”

Jae’s hands start to wander from his wrists to his cheeks, cradling his face into his warm palms. This is so much more than Younghyun could have wished for.

And isn’t that all that it is? A wish born out of a fantasy that will never happen?

Because when Younghyun opens his eyes again, all he sees is Jae standing against the fence, waiting for Younghyun to answer his simple question.

“Where’re you leaving for?”

There is no kiss, no hug, no hushed promise. Younghyun wants to know but at the same time, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to risk losing his fantasy once more, wants to carry on that little piece of hope that maybe, somehow, in some strange twist of the universe, Jae likes him. As more than a friend.

“Away from here.”

Despite the way Younghyun tries to brush him off, despite the way Younghyun squirms in his place, fighting off the urge to flee the scene, Jae’s lips tug upwards into a gentle smile that bears so much warmth in it.

“That’s good.”

That is just how Jae is. Warm, kind, a fresh day at the beach during summer. No start and no end, just the enjoyment of something bright that makes you want to just—

Live.

Younghyun wants to stop existing and just live.

Yesterday, Younghyun existed. Today, Younghyun survives. Tomorrow, Younghyun will finally start to live. A harsh winter may come, a winter without Jae, but it’s okay. Somehow, Younghyun thinks, everything will turn out just fine.

So, his lips quirk up in a small smile of their own, one that nearly rivals that of Jae, in hopes of showing Jae everything that he feels for him. Younghyun doesn’t say good-bye to Jae when he leaves. Neither does he bid his farewell or asks for Jae to wait for him. No, all Younghyun does is saying a simple and last,

“Thank you.”

~~~

A beautiful field so dark in front of him. No flower blooms. Nothing crumbles to dust. The stars above aren’t shining, only a ceiling that he can’t see with how bright it shines.

It doesn’t matter that he can’t see the stars. The only thing that matters is the sea of light in front of him, leaves so bright and shiny to light a path for him, shaking in the rhythm of the beat. The drums shake him to the bones, not a tear to be shed by him but by many other hearts he reaches out for.

The strings beneath his fingers bite into his flesh, the sound reverberating through the wide hall. A voice bellowing out lyrics Younghyun knows by heart as he has poured in so much of his own into it.

On the right, Sungjin plucks at the strings of his beloved acoustic guitar, a present Younghyun gave him once he got his first paycheck. Sungjin’s hoarse voice brings a certain feeling to the ballad, his half-closed eyes charming every person within close proximity.

On the left, Wonpil presses softly the keys, swathing in the rhythm of the song, getting lost in the feeling. His locks are falling into his eyes as sweat runs down his temple, the sadness of the melody pouring out of his heart.

Behind him, Dowoon goes hard to keep the gentle beat, the lights flashing with every hit and snare. His head whips with every motion, his mind fully immersed in the song.

In front of him, a sea of light dancing with the rhythm, the screams of people who adore them, who idolize them, who make them so much more precious than they really are—

Younghyun’s heart could burst every time he sees the scenery. Every concert again, this is where he’s always dreamt to be. Up there on stage where people could see him, free as a bird and ready to snatch the stars from the sky, cry out every discovered thought in his heart, standing on a plate where people can’t reach him.

He did it. After seven years have passed, Younghyun did it. Playing in front of crowds instead of dancing, writing his own songs instead of getting them shoved into his hands, earning his place through hard-work and charm instead of being a puppet of a conglomerate where people push him always back. Years since Younghyun has left the town and finally, he did it.

He is where he always wanted to be.

What a shame, though, that he can’t reach for the stars where not one is seen at all. There is no sky in a hall, there is no flower blooming in darkness, there are no tides roaring on the mainland.

There is no summer in Seoul worthy of what Younghyun is still longing for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Younghyun finally confessed... and then we got the time skip. Next chapter continues after the time skip with less angst than in here. Not much will be happening then, but I promise, Jae is going to appear again and things will finally come to an end.
> 
> And again... LISTEN TO EAJ's PACMAN!


	7. Step X: Find Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **STREAM[EAJ'S PACMAN](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0MrGb1hT2U), 1 MILLION VIEWS ISN'T FAR AWAY ANYMORE!**

“Happy Birthday to you~!”

Younghyun tugs on a cracker to bang, confetti shooting out of the small thing and pouring all over Wonpil and the cake in front of him. Sungjin shakes the champagne until the cork pops, nearly crashing into the already broken glass that stands next to Dowoon, who is nearly strangling Wonpil to death in his crushing hug.

Behind the camera, their manager motions for them to move in closer because Sungjin nearly disappears out of the frame when Wonpil topples over with Dowoon on top of him and Younghyun joining the messy pile with loud laughter.

“Woah, thank you~” Wonpil squeaks to the camera once he sits again, tugging the cake closer to him to blew out the candles on top. “And you, too. Without you, I couldn’t be celebrating here. I love you, Mydays!” They all join Wonpil and throw hearts at the camera, thanking their fans for all their love and support, sipping from the champagne but only so much, then slurp at the soup (but only so much because Wonpil insisted on seasoning it. Never a good idea).

Only half an hour later, their manager turns off the camera as they gift smiles and love to their fans, the live stream finally finished. They sigh in unison.

“Now to the best part!”

Their manager shakes his head with the equipment under his arm, dragging it into the small room that has once been his before he moved out. Younghyun takes out the present he had hidden under the sofa before, Dowoon soon joining in with Sungjin in tow. Pictures are made as Wonpil unpacks his presents, uploaded on Younghyun’s private SNS account and then sent to his mother who immediately responds and asks if Wonpil liked her cake, to which he replies with another picture where he smears part of the cake onto Wonpil’s cheek.

“Guys, I’m so happy that we’re still doing this.” Wonpil smiles brightly into the camera as Younghyun takes another picture for his mother. “Seven years since we left for Seoul and look where we are now.”

Dowoon puts the rabbit ears on Wonpil’s head again, smacking a kiss onto his cheek. “And more than seven are about to come.”

Another click as Younghyun fills his phone’s gallery, presses ‘send to’ and smiles down to his phone. “I’m glad that they’d listened to us when we told them to cast Dowoon as our drummer.”

“I wouldn’t have accepted any other one,” Sungjin smiles warmly down to their maknae, messing up his curly hair. “Any of you, for that matter. Cheers to us!”

Their glasses clink together while they cheer loudly, champagne swapping over the rim. Younghyun’s phone vibrates with a new message at the same time as Wonpil’s chimes with one of its own tunes.

“Oh, Jinyoungie wants to meet up in a few.” Wonpil’s smile widens at his phone while Dowoon hugs the other from the side to peer curiously at his phone.

“Then we don’t want to keep you any longer.” Sungjin shoos him away teasingly, lightly shoving him toward the door. “Younghyun looks like he wants to escape from us, too.”

Younghyun looks up from his phone abruptly, smiling sheepishly at his friends. “Sorry, got a message from—”

“Loverboy texted you again?” Wonpil wiggles his eyebrows and winks once. “Don’t come back too late, we have an early schedule tomorrow morning.”

Dowoon squeals, falling back into the couch when Wonpil stands to pick up his coat. Younghyun mimics him. “The radio show, right? I won’t miss it, promise. Same goes for you.”

His phone vibrates again, a reminder of someone waiting for him. Younghyun is out of the door before Wonpil can punch against his arm, breathing in the fresh air of Seoul in spring. He tugs down the bucket hat deep into his face and puts on his mask, leaving through the back door in hopes of no fans catching him before he hails a cab at the street and goes to a much different part of the town.

Seoul is big. Here, people are bustling through the streets even during the darkest hours of the night. Shops are opened for twenty-four hours, some bars don’t even open their doors before nine in the evening. The city feels alive, a burning fire of excitement rushing through the streets, infecting Younghyun.

Seoul is the unknown. The city has so many corners Younghyun still doesn’t know of; so many people that he will never meet, so many faces he will never care about. Unknown is the key. Unknown is the inviting force that keeps Younghyun within its own whisper, none of which is haunting him in his sleep.

Of course, there is that thing where Younghyun is a famous idol. He has his face plastered on many walls, has his music played in many shops, has fans that like to follow him everywhere, has a name that is shouted as if he is god’s greatest creation.

Yet, it doesn’t matter. Younghyun still loves Seoul as Seoul is so much different than the town he lived in before. Here, people aren’t judging him for not having a father or for being a small troublemaker in school. Here, people eat out of Younghyun’s hand in their desperate longing for being understood and finding comfort, both which Younghyun is more than willing to provide, just like once his teacher had done for him.

Seven years have passed. Younghyun is no boy anymore, no seventeen-year-old who dreams of the great agape kind of love, of a man who sweeps him off his feet and whose ground Younghyun wants to worship. During those seven years, Younghyun learnt to be wiser. To see better and different. There is no anger at Jae anymore, only the regret of never having found any closure with that man.

Sure, his feelings were voiced through that confession, but Younghyun never really explained—just as much as Jae had never given him any clear answer. They both were pressed into a corner where Younghyun couldn’t keep still any longer and wanted to burst out of that world punishing him, and Jae had to suddenly deal with a student in love with him out of nowhere. Or maybe not. Younghyun hadn’t been subtle, like, at all, with all that blushing and stuttering and idolizing Jae in every way.

Yesterday, Younghyun had been a blushing virgin, believing in the most pure and innocent form of love. Today, Younghyun has grown up to be a man who knows that love isn’t just that. He writes about break-ups, about hunting and letting go, and people ask him who has once hurt him that much.

Younghyun wondered that himself. Thought about Jae. Dismissed it as soon as it came up. He doesn’t want to taint his memories of Jae like that. A small part of him wants to stick to that sentiment of pure and innocent adoration, untainted of all things that had surrounded him back then.

Everyone has a demon haunting them and so does Younghyun. Demons he has long come to terms with.

He likes that. Maybe he should make a note of it.

What a way to go— from a blushing virgin to a skeptical lover.

Here is how it goes:

Younghyun knocks impatiently against the door, tugging off his mask and hat to immediately throw them into the flat once the door opens, crushing into the guy before anyone can get a clear view of his face. Not when he is pressing his lips feverishly against the other’s, no ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’, just the good old make-out session as they get rid of their clothes to touch and taste and get lost within each other.

It starts at the door, it ends in the bed. Both panting, their skin glazed over with sweat, heart throbbing hard against their chests. Younghyun cards his hands into the other’s hair, keeps the other’s head against his chest as Younghyun stares up to the dark ceiling, just breathing.

“I saw your live,” the boy whispers against his skin, peppering it with many little kisses. “You looked so hot I had to message you.”

“And I’m glad you did.” Younghyun presses his own kisses against the man’s head, smiling into it. “This was good.”

“Only good?”

“Very good.” Younghyun kisses the teasing smirk on the man’s face away, both giggling into the other’s mouth. “God, I wish I could do that with you every day and night.”

The man pushes Younghyun’s long, blond strands out of his hair. His eyes track every edge and curve, his lips tugging up in a small smile. “But you have a life to live.”

Younghyun groans and flops back onto the mattress, closes his eyes and sighs to forget everything just once. His lover is right, yes, Younghyun has a life to live, a life that this man can never be a part of. Same shit as always.

Away from the town, still chased by the same problems. Cut him some slack, alright?

“You should be my manager or something like that. That way, you could always be with me without anyone suspecting anything.”

“Not to be rude, hyung,” the boy slowly starts, tracing patterns onto Younghyun’s chest, always smiling. “But I’m just a little speck in your life. Why should I be your manager if you can’t even commit to a relationship?”

“I could call you manager-nim. That’s hot, right?”

“Gross, no,” his lover laughs. His eyes turn into small little crescents, shiny and beautiful, a reminder of something passed. “I just—What even are we, Younghyun-hyung? You come here every now and then and are gone before sunrise. I feel like some dirty secret that I actually am.”

“Hey.” Younghyun topples them over, hovering over his lover to press kisses against his cheeks, nose and lips. He gets a warm smile in return that he tries to mirror despite the clawing feeling inside his chest. “I’m sorry that you feel like that. I wish I could change it somehow. I just—it’s hard. If people—”

“I know. I know.” His lover sighs deeply before he throws his arms around Younghyun’s neck, tugging him closer to him. “I get it, really. But even then, I have the feeling that I’ll never get your heart fully. You are lost somewhere that I will never be able to find you.”

A field with no flowers where winter has long settled into, snow covering the grass like a blanket. There are still no stars in the sky, a gray canvas void of any sun or moon.

No waves or tides, only many lights floating directionless everywhere, so many lights that wish to point him into the right direction, yet Younghyun feels so lost. Nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to feel.

The snow is numbing with its coldness creeping deep into his bones, freezing him inside out to make him unable to just be. Live. Survive. Exist. It always crumbles down to that.

Where he strives to live, he only survives. Where he strives to survive, he only exists. It’s in his mood, it’s in the day.

On some days, Younghyun is living. He stands atop of a stage, breathing, listening, yearning. He feels emotions he always thought to be unable to feel at all. Surrounded by people who claim to understand him and sometimes, it’s enough.

Sometimes, it isn’t. On those days, Younghyun looks past it. People see him up there on stage, but they aren’t really looking. Strangely enough, he doesn’t want them to look too closely as well. He builds wall upon wall until someday someone comes to crumble it down and holds Younghyun while he cries himself to sleep—a feat that usually falls into the lap of his next best available friend (that usually is Dowoon as his room is right next door).

What follows are days where he exists. Floating, lost, trying to find footing in a world where he has no one to guide him, no goal to work toward to anymore, nothing within his reach to do. It’s always about the next show, the next song, the next stage, never about ‘what I want to be in five years’. Never has been.

Coming to Seoul has been the start of a never-ending process of constructing and de-constructing himself. Who is Younghyun? A boy with no father but a mother who loves him so dearly? That hard and broody guy who is actually the biggest dork in the country? That charming and funny idol with so many hidden talents that reach beyond singing and writing and playing? Or someone who is actually hopping from one lover to another in his desperate search of something valuable to keep?

In reality, though, Younghyun is still that idiot on his search for a real connection. A real love. Call him romantic, call him sappy, but Younghyun wants all that shit: a first date, a first kiss, a first night, eventually moving together, thinking about family and then getting one. Buying a car, buying a house, getting grandchildren and then sitting happily on a porch to watch the sunsets every evening again.

However, Younghyun can’t seem to find that one person who is able to give him all of that. Only empty promises of ‘I call you next time’ but forgetting about them all together after an exhausting schedule that steals him two years of his life.

When Younghyun wakes up that morning before sunrise, his lover is also awake, staring at his back as Younghyun dresses himself and searches for the things he threw on the ground last night in their haste of getting undressed. As soon as he touches the door he turns to the man, smiles and says the usual, “I’ll call you, alright?”

Only that time, he gets the indefinite answer of, “Don’t bother. This isn’t working out.”

And then, Younghyun’s gone.

~~~

Younghyun is hungry. Younghyun is sleepy. Younghyun is just in a bad mood. Still, he is here, smiling as if he hadn’t been dumped hours ago, greeting people how he greets everyone. Sungjin notices and pats him on the back, Dowoon actually hugs him and Wonpil asks if he wants to talk but Younghyun declines. Wonpil lets go of it immediately.

They know the routine by now. Younghyun eventually talks and then their conversations turn in circles until one of them yells at someone (usually Sungjin at Younghyun), pleading with him to actually do something about it (usually to get help from a professional). The next day, they talk it out, once again, this time with less yelling and more warm words, they make up and apologize and then go back to normal.

Rinse and repeat.

They know that Younghyun pours his heart out in his songs that gives them eventually the opportunity to get to the roots of Younghyun’s problem. They stopped bothering to ask about his flings as fleeting as they are a long time ago.

Today, the radio station is empty and quiet. The show goes by without a hitch, they smile and talk and dance and do some cute shit they pretend to hate (except for Sungjin, he really despises it). Younghyun slurps his iced americano as he browses through the bulletin board outside the record room, the staff’s program put up there.

Sometimes, he finds something exciting there for his mother and sends her a quick text to which she responds quickly, asking if he has already eaten that day. Younghyun usually lies and tells her about that big variety of breakfast he had instead of those diet meals he forces himself to scarf down without wincing at the taste. Then his mother sends a follow up to keep him up on the latest gossip, even though Younghyun doesn’t care much about what the old lady across the street does in her free time (not very much, that is sure). But Younghyun likes to entertain his mother as he misses her a tad too much.

Then, as he peruses through the schedule of this week, something catches his eye. He tugs onto the flyer and reads through it, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?” A staff turns around at Younghyun’s small quip, smiling while offering her help. “There’s a math competition?”

The staff looks at the flyer shortly before she lights up, nodding. “Yeah. One of those young idols participate, that’s why we’re covering it.”

“Aren’t those competitions usually in fall instead of spring?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “The board decided to move them up to spring so the students have more time to learn.”

Younghyun nods and thanks for her help, reading through the flyer once again. He should maybe ask his manager about his schedule for the next days.

“Younghyun-ah, are you coming?”

~~~

Walking through the crowd covered in a hat with a wide brim, sunglasses and a face mask makes him look really suspicious, especially when there are so many children bustling around the area. Of course they do so, Younghyun is sneaking around in a school, a place where he isn’t supposed to be.

Normally, he should be at the company and practice for their upcoming comeback until his fingers are bleeding. Today though, Younghyun woke Sungjin with fake tears in his eyes, whining about a sick stomach and throwing up and probably even diarrhea until Sungjin pushed him away and told him to call his manager and explain those things to him instead.

Long story short, Younghyun feigned illness to get out of his schedule and walk like a very suspicious person through hordes of children.

Things get harder once the press arrives and follows around that one idol high schooler who is participating in the competition. One of the staff members has stared long and hard at Younghyun, maybe waging his options of writing a story about a possible kidnapping or calling the police, which in turn led to Younghyun pushing his hat deeper into his face and speeding out of the hallway into the (thankfully well-signposted) auditorium. He sits down on the last chair far in the back, making him as small as possible, and prays for the best.

God knows what came over him that he is actually doing this.

One hour into the competition and Younghyun still hasn’t gotten any answer. He only knows that much: he really needs to take a piss. Thankfully, the round ends quickly and they have a small break, so Younghyun dashes out of the room and searches for the third best bathroom to take a piss in peace while his mind calls him out on every stupid move he makes.

It’s only on his way back into the hall that Younghyun sees the actual reason why he is here.

A sight that is beautiful enough to steal all of Younghyun’s breath, golden locks flowing in the early spring breeze coming through the window, light hitting the heavenly sculptured skin at the right angle, a smell like that of summer nights and the wide freedom of the ocean.

Younghyun has some kind of déjà vu.

He very much wants to stay frozen on the spot and favorably spend time with him because then he could look at that unreal man forever and burn the image deep into his mind, right next to the first impression he’s had of him almost eight years ago.

God, how can someone be that pretty even after all those distant years have passed?

Just then, the man suddenly whips around to where Younghyun stands, his eyes scanning through the crowd. His fast reflexes help Younghyun to duck behind some people at the right moment, attaching to them like a leech in hopes of getting back to his seat in the auditorium to flee from the undoubtedly embarrassing scene.

Last chair in the last row right in the corner, Younghyun slumps down in it to make himself as small as possible again. There are reporters everywhere, cameras, people, and they all can possibly recognize Younghyun at any moment. Fuck, what if they recognize him and see that blushing mess he has come to be?

At least he has his mask and his hat and his sunglasses and wow, that’s really not helping his case to look inconspicuous. He should calm down his racing heart first, then try to get out second. Breathing exercises sure come in handy now. In. Out. In. Out. In—

“I try a shot in the dark and guess that you are not here because one of those kids is yours, right?”

“Jesus Christ—”

Younghyun’s chair tips back and he topples over, landing rather painfully and with a loud crash on his back, his sunglasses askew and hat not on top of his head anymore. His heart leapt out of his chest, that’s for sure. For now, he has to do some damage control to first, save his face in front of a very interested audience and second, brush things off as if they are nothing.

Forget the second one. Second is shit. Second is for when Younghyun is sixty or so. He bows in apology to the crowd, assuring everything’s alright while he tugs the blond strands that are escaping his hat back into it and pushes the glasses up his face. Mothers love him now, that’s for sure, only the fathers want to kill him with their glares.

Just—when he hears that high chuckle that has been lost to him for years now, his heart is suddenly back in his chest and throbs nearly painfully, even now seven years later.

“It’s good to know that some things will never change.”

Younghyun feels too overwhelmed to answer. The pressure of the crowd constricts his chest tightly, plus the whispers, the sudden interest of reporters in him—

So, Younghyun does what he can best. He takes his legs into his hands and just runs out of the room, out of the school and leans against a tree once he notices that he somehow missed the main entrance and ran into the school garden instead. He tries to catch his breath and tugs his mask down to gasp for air and scanning the area.

Alone. Perfect.

Until steps reach his ears and his spine goes rigid. The mask is up on his nose again and eyes wary.

“Jesus, there’s a reason why I’m the math teacher. That wasn’t good.”

The man leans onto the tree next to Younghyun and tries to control his breathing while Younghyun just—stares. How could he not stare at that? Blond hair wafting through the air as if it was born to do so. A light tan on the skin that highlight his rosy cheeks, eyes so small behind thick rimmed glasses, lips so pouty without the other even pouting.

Some things never chance, Younghyun agrees. Seven years later and the beauty of Park Jaehyung still steals his breath and heart all the same.

At least, the mask is hiding his oncoming blush.

“I can’t believe I met you here.” Jae suddenly breaks the silence with a huff, then smiles at Younghyun as if they have seen each other just yesterday. When Younghyun doesn’t speak at all, his smile wavers. “You are Younghyun, right?”

Mask, glasses, hat, yet Jae still sees him. Realizes it’s him from afar. How does he do that?

“Y-Yes. Yes.” Younghyun takes off his glasses to stare the man directly into his eyes, a nearly impossible thing to do when said eyes crunch up into those cute crescents. Younghyun’s breath is lost between them, his heart leaping out of his chest to get to the other man’s hands. It feels like falling in love all over again. “Long time no see, teacher-nim.”

Jae chuckles, looking down and scratching at his neck. “Jae. Just call me Jae. Or hyung, what you like.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Younghyun can’t handle this. He totally can’t handle this. Today isn’t throwback Tuesday or so. Still, Younghyun feels very much like that seventeen-year-old blushing virgin who faces his biggest crush for the first time after years of pining again.

(In a different sense, this _is_ Younghyun meeting his old crush after years of pining. Just that his pining has shifted from missing Jae to something more abstract, a longing for being seen as he truly is.)

That smile of Jae’s subdues bit by bit the longer Younghyun stares at him like a fish out of sea. God help him, he can’t formulate any coherent sentence in his mind, let alone any word that fit the situation.

“Okay, this just got really awkward.” Jae shuffles on the spot and looks back to the doors, then glances at the watch on his wrist. “I really want to catch up with you but there are some kids I promised to support in there.”

And even then, Younghyun can’t give Jae any answer. He swallows hard and nods slowly, every command very consciously done.

“Maybe if you can give me your number, we could meet up some time in the future?”

Younghyun nods again, then continues his staring. Jae amusedly cocks his eyebrow when it finally dawns on Younghyun that he is waiting for something – his number to be specific.

“Oh. Oh!” Younghyun hastily scrambles for his phone and nearly shoves it into Jae’s hand. Only then he remembers that his phone is locked and rips it out of Jae’s hand again, all while Jae laughs heartedly at the clumsy tries Younghyun takes to unlock his phone.

“I’m glad that you haven’t changed that much.”

Seven years lie between them and here Jae stands in front of him, a sentence that is Younghyun’s doom just as it is his salvation, making his heart speed up and skip a few beats all the same. And only then Younghyun realizes, just as Jae returns him his phone with that goddamn smile on his face, that Jae, too, hasn’t changed that much in those seven years.

He looks older, sure, more mature. The touch of youth is still lingering in his face, even though it is only found in traces around his boyish smile while his lines hold so much more wisdom than before.

Everything’s different and yet the same, time turning seconds into years, things that lie forgotten suddenly blooming prettily amidst the snow.

A single flower that breaks through the blanket of snow, brighter than any light in the sky, warmer than the coldness in his bones. The wind brings the faint whisper of a tide crashing against the shore, so beautiful.

“I’ll write you then.”

It’s only when Jae turns to leave with an awkward wave that Younghyun realizes again—

“I’ll wait.” Jae stops instantly and turns back to Younghyun, cocking his head. “I don’t know when I have a free day again and I came here for... So… I just wait. Here. Maybe—maybe we can…” Younghyun trails off when he sees Jae’s eyes crinkle with that quirk of his lips that never fails to rob him of his breath.

~~~

Younghyun has come far. He is famous enough to swoon girls all over the world with a simple smile. Photographers love him, especially when he whips out his best sexy facial expressions. His body? Top shape, although he doesn’t have that much of a workout routine. Just keeping his weight, maybe some biceps, that’s enough.

The point is, Younghyun is a charmer to the world. He can sing, he can talk, he can act, but there is one thing he actually really can’t do: having a normal conversation with Park Jaehyung.

After hours of waiting, Jae and he visit a small bakery Younghyun likes to frequent ever since (it’s not nearly as good as his mother’s, but a rather good substitute). The owner likes him enough to not rat him out to the press and even grants him the table far off in the corner behind a big plant.

The steaming coffee in front of him stays untouched as Jae’s own is nearly half empty since Jae tends to drink away the awkwardness. Or the silence. Always did so when his mother talked off his ears again.

“So…” Jae immediately trails off when his eyes meet Younghyun’s wide ones. He is still staring at his old teacher like a fish out of water. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

“Life’s treating you good?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be nice to work with your friends?”

“I guess.”

“And you didn’t come to the competition because you have a child, right?”

“Yeah.”

Someone please hit Younghyun. The silence is heavy between them. Jae’s coffee has reached its end and Younghyun hasn’t even started with his yet. At this rate, Jae will be out of that door in the next few minutes if Younghyun doesn’t start talking.

Maybe a manual on ‘How to talk for dummies’ would be nice. Where did he put Dowoon’s gift again?

“Okay, look.” Oh god, Jae has this stern teacher voice on right now. The way his fingers intertwines, and his lips press together into one thin line, Younghyun feels like that dumb student again, who fucked up very much and got scolded by Jae for his troubling behavior. “I know we didn’t leave on good terms and that things had been tense for weeks before you left—”

“I-It’s okay. Really,” Younghyun hastily interrupts Jae before he can continue into a direction Younghyun very much wants to avoid. It feels like standing at an intersection and having to decide on which way to go – does he want to stay blissfully ignorant to Jae’s true feelings so he is allowed to continue dreaming that Jae’s arms are warmer than he is able to imagine them to be; or does he want to hear the truth of Jae’s reality where a student had sadly fallen in love with him only because Jae was nice enough to try to be a good guidance.

“No, no—” Jae shakes his head, carding through his own hair. “We’ve never talked about it and I feel bad. It’s my fault, really, I avoided you because I didn’t know how to deal with it and then it was too late anyway.”

Despite his fear gnawing at him inside, Younghyun has already made up his mind. Jae looks so saddened upon his small confession. He wants to see Jae smile, Younghyun faintly remembers that promise to himself, to always be the reason why Jae smiles like that.

He swallows all of his fears and dives into the conversation that he is about to have, a step that he should have made years before. Step x on his list, right after confess: Find closure.

Younghyun slowly reaches out and brushes his fingers against Jae’s, waiting for some kind of reaction. He waits for the moment Jae takes his fingers back when in reality, something happens Younghyun hasn’t anticipated. Jae turns his hand around and gently takes Younghyun’s into his.

That is new.

“It’s my fault. I’ve taken things out of context and turned them into something that fit my childish hopes and dreams.” Seven years are a long time enough to reflect on things in the past. When the nights are long, Younghyun always tends to think back to the many memories haunting his mind. The day his father ran with him through the fields, the day his father had left, the day his mother took him to Korea, the day he met Park Jaehyung, the day he confessed and got rejected.

There is only so much reflecting one can do without thinking through every different perspective that is there to see. Long ago, Younghyun had come to terms with the fact that Jae hadn’t done anything to warrant Younghyun’s hope of his feelings being reciprocated. It was all in his head, a fantasy of a young boy desperate to be loved and be seen for who he really is. Jae was only there to try and guide him, just like a good teacher should do. It was Younghyun who twisted the truth to benefit his own reality.

“I was just a stupid boy who was obsessed with his crush.” His fingers start to fiddle but are soon stopped by Jae’s owns, a small squeeze to keep his nervousness down. “You just came into my life where I was at my lowest point and you kept catching my fall. It was nice to have someone doing that for you.”

Younghyun abruptly rips his fingers away from Jae’s as a waitress appears at their table, serving Jae another cup of coffee before she leaves. It serves as a reminder of how Younghyun can’t have this as the world is watching them, him specifically, waiting for him to make a mistake lest they can push him down and back to where he came from.

A famous idol holding hands with a man? Scandalous. Said man is his old teacher? That’s a story worth Younghyun’s career.

Seven years have passed but somehow, nothing has changed at all.

Jae suddenly clears his throat after he takes a sip from his cup, gently placing it down as he then looks Younghyun in the eye.

“Have I ever told you why I left the States?” The sudden change in topic confuses Younghyun. He shakes his head, nonetheless.

“When I was in middle school, I wanted to be a professional basketball player. When I was in high school, I wanted to become a professional musician. When I was in College, I was suddenly studying for a poli-sci degree. Today, I’m a math teacher in Korea. Sometimes, I lie awake during the night and wonder: how did I get here?”

Jae has that look on him again, so far away to a world Younghyun feels he has once seen, too. A place somewhere far away that holds so many memories that are now tainted for eternity, seeking the pleasure of being cleaned from its sins and demons as only then the flowers can bloom once again.

“I am a lanky Asian-American guy who lived in a small city. Basketball? That star player of the school would push me over with his small finger. Actually did, only that his finger was actually his fist and it really hurt. Music? I had about a hundred follower on YouTube, I even auditioned for a kpop show. You know why I didn’t go? My mother found out that I liked to kiss guys instead of girls. The disgust on her face when she looked at me—”

Jae chuckles as if to laugh at the absurdity of the situation in which Younghyun can’t find anything absurd at all.

Younghyun knows that he got lucky with his mother. Accepting, sweet and nice, it has taken her a only few minutes to accept that Younghyun falls in love with pretty much everyone, no matter their gender or sex. Not many people are that lucky. That accepting.

It breaks his heart even more so to know that Jae is one of those who doesn’t have it.

“I’ve always been good at math, so I took courses on the side. I had to change college after I punched a guy into the face because he thought being homophobic is cool and bullying my friend, too. Boyfriend, actually. Whom I very much loved. But I was just a phase, you know?”

_I feel like some dirty secret that I actually am._

“I felt like I had to redeem myself after so much shit happened that I took the first chance that fate has given me. That old man who was your math teacher before was actually an old friend of my grandparents. I only got the job because my mother sweet-talked the principal into it. You should have seen his face when he saw my bleached hair for the first time.”

Younghyun doesn’t have to. Knows the face too good as the principal had regarded him with the same look when Younghyun tried to look different just once.

“And then I met you.”

That day when Jae entered the room, sunlight flooding in and highlighting that blond hair, the arrival of an angel. That day when Jae came into the classroom, all smiles and awkward but yet so charming. That day when Jae played in the music room, catching Younghyun’s heart just like that.

It all comes back in a rush like the quick thumps his heart moves in, blood roaring in his ears as the tides break onto the shore; a simple sentence that Younghyun can relate to so much but still can’t comprehend what it means.

 _And then I met you_ is always on Younghyun’s mind. Meeting Park Jaehyung set things in motion that were subtle at first. Little happenings that somehow turned into a butterfly effect – with Younghyun as the butterfly, once a simple worm, now with beautiful wings on his back, still unable to fly without the sun in the sky.

 _And then I met you_ made the impossible thing possible. Time changes always and steadily. People change, subtly and over a long course of time. But the town never changed. That is until Jae arrived because then, the town suddenly became a place where Younghyun could nearly exist in peace – as long as he could stay by Jae’s side. His guide through the darkness, his sun in the sky, the arms that will catch him if he falls.

Younghyun gains courage. His foot reaches out underneath the table, nudging against Jae’s. An invite.

“What then?” Younghyun whispers into the silence of the small bakery. His voice like made out of glass, see-through but unsure about what to see in the darkness behind.

Jae, however, is bolder. Has always been. Where Younghyun extends a branch, Jae takes the whole tree. Or in this case, intertwines their legs as his hand lays on the table, palm up as an invitation.

Jesus, Younghyun’s heart needs a break. A face he hasn’t seen on Jae before slowly makes its way on there, eyes downward and a light blush tints his cheeks rosy.

“When I first saw you, I thought you are just like those guys in middle school – only ever fixated on yourself, your popularity and the girls. The cool guy that plays in a band and turns girls’ heads left and right. But when I first talked to you, really talked to you—” Jae chuckles at the memory, his palm still open for Younghyun to take. “You were—different. Clumsy, shy, very polite, curious and… genuine. That was such a huge different between what people perceive you to be and who you really are. I guess, I saw something of myself in you and thought that I could help you to— I don’t know, become your best version?”

What does this mean? Where does this lead to? What does it have to do with Younghyun’s apologize? He searches for something in Jae’s face, but he can’t find anything except for the beauty blinding him.

“What are you trying—”

“Take my hand, Kang.”

Jae’s wish is Younghyun’s every command – or maybe it’s only the remnant of Younghyun’s trained brain to heed his teacher’s every wish. Younghyun’s hand shoots up from under the table and takes Jae’s into his, the confusion about the situation only strengthening.

“I wanted to save you from the cruelty that the world had once thrown into my face, but then I realized that I may not be the right person to do so.”

“That’s not true!” Younghyun immediately shoots back, leaning forward in his agitation. “Everything I did was for you! I wanted to prove you that I am an adult, that I can be the perfect lover for you!”

“But isn’t that the problem?”

“What?” A storm in his heart, raging over his feelings like water splashing into his face. Lost in a snowfield with no light, lost underwater with shadows advancing to him. Reality sets in where his fantasies show their darkest side, keeping him grounded where his dreams are flying too high.

Just then, just like it has always been, a finger presses against his head, stopping all of those negative thoughts rushing through him. In the middle of the storm, the smile of a man, broken but healing at the same.

“I made you prove yourself to me again and again. And that’s the problem. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. The only person that you have to be the best for is—you. Instead of guiding you, I was leading you astray. And then I had the audacity to somehow earn your love. The moment you left for Seoul to become someone who you wanted to be felt so freeing.”

Younghyun flinches back at the confession, wants to tug his hand out of Jae’s palm and his foot away from Jae’s legs, but Jae doesn’t let him. He holds onto him stronger, doesn’t let go, urges him to continue listening, even though Younghyun doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to have his heart shred to tears any further.

“Don’t—don’t get this wrong,” Jae pleads with him, tugging him closer over the table. “You are so fast to assume things—your wavering self-confidence jumping to the worst conclusions.”

To protect his heart, Younghyun wants to yell. Tears are springing to his eyes, his sight getting blurred. “I don’t want to hear that. Please, I understand that you don’t reciprocate my feelings, really. But let me still have this fantasy where I can pretend that at least one person out there is loving me—”

“What about your friends?” A chair scrapes over the floor. “Haven’t they followed you out here to be with you? Aren’t they still here with you after seven long years?”

Younghyun tries to sink further into his chair, his hand still caught within Jae’s. “I was the one who followed them. It's their dream, too.”

“And your mother? Is she doing things just out of obligation? She shows me pictures of you every time I visit her bakery. Younghyun did this, Younghyun did that, she looks so happy when you smile in your pictures. When you look happy.”

“She is my mother,” Younghyun retorts weakly, looking up to Jae standing next to the table.

“You realize that she isn’t obligated to love you?” _The disgust on her face when she looked at me._ “But she still does. Isn’t it wrong for you doubting her love?”

The tears spill over as his heart wrenches itself into tears more than before, broken to every shard. He sobs as his world feels like crumbling, the snow melting slowly. The sun is bright, burning his wings when too close, but Younghyun longs for it. He wants to burn and feel warm again, even if it makes the shadows grow bigger.

Before, his mother had been there to hold Younghyun in a warm embrace when he broke down. She whispered words into his hair, small nothings that sounded like too big promises. His mother even drives the whole way from home to Seoul when Younghyun calls her, breaking down due to stress from his schedule, a dispute with his friends, a break-up with a lover. No matter the time of the day, she comes, just to get Younghyun into her arms and calm down the broken remnants of her son.

Now, Younghyun knows what it feels like being truly embraced by Jae. He distinctly remembers him doing so in a bathroom after Younghyun had seen his father, all calm and worried. Jae is warm. Smells like the ocean and summer. His chest is a comfortable place to lean on, his hand in his hair something Younghyun misses too much at night.

Maybe he has missed Jae all along and not the abstract feeling that is love. Because even after all those distant years, Younghyun still loves Jae.

Always will.

“You are different,” Younghyun then confesses. His hand cradles Jae’s face into his palm, his thumb swiping over his cheek. “I was lost—but then I met you. You can see me, you listen to me, you are-- you are everything I ever wanted.” His eyes flutter close as he leans in, his nose barely touching Jae’s. His lips whisper those three words against Jae’s, just like a promise lost to the world, one that had been made years before.

“I love you.”

Seven years have passed since he had last kissed Jae and yet, there is no difference. Younghyun’s kisses are soft, little pecks to seek comfort whereas Jae just doesn’t respond. His heart falls although he knew that this would happen. Jae opens his heart and Younghyun selfishly throws his own excessive feelings into his face.

A last peck, Younghyun thinks, then he will try to mend things again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing but I’m just—”

And suddenly, silence. The voices in his head gone. His heart, too. Jae looks beautiful like this. His eyes closed, his palm around Younghyun’s cheek, his hair tickling his nose. Younghyun’s own hands slowly get lost in those soft strands, lightly grabbing to press Jae tighter against him.

That calmness, Younghyun likes it. But what he likes best is the way Jae kisses him. Those aren’t just small pecks against close lips; Jae kisses him as if he is something fragile that he takes care of, something that he doesn’t want to break but still wants to use, like the string of a guitar that produces the softest sounds and melodies.

Their lips move against each other slow, languidly, a kiss that is shared between old lovers but still so exciting, so new.

When Jae pulls back, not too far from him, Younghyun opens his eyes again. Confused, baffled, struck with something he hasn't ever thought would happen.

“What?”

Jae’s thumb caresses his cheek as his lips smile blindingly at him, just like the sun. “I finally surprised you, huh? I came to Korea to redeem myself through punishment. Instead, I found you. You surprised me in the moments you didn’t try to. You are nice, funny, smart, genuine. A musician who has a way with words. A mathlete who is smarter than he makes himself to be. A friend who cares more about others than himself. A son who would do everything for his mother. I couldn’t help myself but fall for you. Only—”

“You were my teacher.”

“I am not anymore.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Shall we start anew again instead of progressing from where we have left?” Younghyun slowly nods, still not grasping what is happening here.

“Hi. I’m Jae.”

It’s warm.

“I’m Younghyun.”

It’s calm.

“Huh? You look more like a Brian, though.”

The beach to his feet, nearly there with the sun shining down and buds blooming throughout the field. Maybe, Younghyun will see the beach one day. Maybe when summer is there. Summer feels warm in his arms.

“Nice to meet you, Jae.”

~~~

(That night when he comes home, he walks into his friends watching him from the couch with stern frowns on their lips that melt into confusion as soon as they see the small and warm smile, a gone look in his eyes.

“Oh,” Dowoon intelligently says. “I haven’t seen that face in a long time.”

Then it seems to slowly dawn to Sungjin. “Where exactly have you been?”

But it is Wonpil who smiles so brightly and then leans forward, interlacing his fingers with Younghyun’s. “Spill the tea. Who’s the new lover?”

But that, for now, is something that Younghyun very much wishes to keep as a secret.)

~~~

They text. A lot. Younghyun writes novels about his strict and very time-consuming schedules whereas Jae describes his day as ‘same old same old. Tell me more about band practice’. Younghyun sends short audio clips of melodies they are working on to which Jae then sends back an audio clip too, only that his is an improvement of theirs.

Slowly but steadily, their discography is filled with so many different pieces that have been touched by Jae. Small sentences trickle into Younghyun’s lyrics that Jae says during their short phone calls at night, and melodies that Jae has come up with when the muse struck him and sent immediately to Younghyun.

They text. They call. They even video call if Younghyun has the time for such. However, that is where their meetings end. Younghyun always checks in with his manager for a small day-off and receives the same answer every time: maybe after the next comeback.

And comeback has been a month ago.

Promotions slowly fizzle out with time, but tour is already around the corner, and this time they conquer not only Korea and Japan but also America. Jae has been ecstatic when Younghyun announced their tour schedule to him. Younghyun now knows at least twenty spots in L.A. to visit once he arrives there.

“We won’t be able to see each other until Christmas,” Younghyun belatedly realizes and sighs into his phone. The clock has long passed three in the night and his members are knocked out in their own rooms, only Younghyun sits in the living room and stares at the ceiling, talking to Jae over the phone.

A very tired Jae as today and tomorrow are school days. “I can wait. What are a few months more when I’ve already waited for seven years?”

“Hyung~ don’t say things like that.”

The familiarity with which Younghyun is talking to Jae remembers him of the Sundays with Jae entering his mother’s bakery and ordering a bunch of biscuits baked by none other than Younghyun himself. They talked until his mother ushered Younghyun out so he could do his homework, swatting her towel against a laughing Jae as he should have been the responsible one to remind Younghyun of said homework – instead of claiming all of his attention.

“Why? You red like a tomato again?”

There isn’t much difference to Jae in the past. Jae is still Jae after all the time. A teacher dedicated to his students, making the best out of the worst situation. It hasn’t taken that long for Younghyun to notice that Jae is still just a lonely boy inside his heart. Someone who sends him memes at the oddest hours, who teases Younghyun about every embarrassing thing he catches on, ranting about kids and their unbearable parents, missing his own parents before he remembers how they couldn’t stand his sight. A friend first and foremost, a thing that they have been in the past and is easy to pick up again.

They aren’t dating. They aren’t talking about it. It stands between them like an elephant in the room, both being content to ignore it for now. Younghyun remembers the kiss fondly, fills his notebook with it but never shows them anyone, his heart beating against his chest on the fact that he has gained a friend more than a lover. Someone to connect to.

Jae doesn’t bemoan his lack of time. Jae doesn’t ask why he is a dirty secret hidden in Younghyun’s closet. Jae doesn’t wait for Younghyun to give him his whole heart.

Because Jae really understands.

Younghyun has already gifted him his whole heart on that fateful day that is spring eight years ago.

Still, Younghyun asks over and over again if Jae is alright, if Younghyun is paying him too little attention, if Jae needs more than what Younghyun can give him. Jae, however, only laughs and tells him not to worry.

“I’m just glad to know that you’re here.”

And what more does Younghyun need than that?

“I’m glad, too.”

Seven years and it still feels like yesterday.

On another night, Wonpil walks in with Dowoon by his side, catching Younghyun mixing batter with spots of flour all over his face. They throw questioning glances to Sungjin sitting at the counter to which Sungjin only shrugs, offering a small, “He’s at it for hours.”

Dowoon, the bravest of them all, closes in on Younghyun and watches him measuring sugar and lactose-free milk. “Are you baking?”

“Yes,” Younghyun responds curtly and pushes the youngest away with his elbow to get better access to the eggs.

It’s warm in their flat. Summer takes its toll on each of them, especially now that the night doesn’t bring in the cooling relieve unlike it always does. Summer is hot, summer is blazing fire, summer is—

“Isn’t that the recipe for your famous biscuits?” Wonpil points out once he sees the already baked ones sitting at the counter—directly next to the trash.

Sungjin follows his line of sight, smiling tightly lipped. “Failed attempts.”

Dowoon, however, latches on what Wonpil tries to say. “Wait? You mean the teacher Park biscuits?”

That name would be funny if it weren’t true. The biscuits have a special place in Younghyun’s heart. As his mother likes to pray every time on phone that ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ or something like that, Younghyun is very much determined to win that man’s heart through his stomach.

“Are you going to visit teacher-nim when we go home?” Wonpil jumps in excitement and goes in for a hug to Younghyun. The older, however, kicks him quickly away.

Younghyun had pleaded to his manager on his knees to give them a weekend off before they go on tour, just to visit their families back at home. Only one day and one night, then they’ll tour without a complaint about tightly packed schedules that people would sue their companies for.

A reasonable man, his manager. He let him off the hook with said promise on his lips, smiling warmly at Younghyun nearly crying tears of happiness.

“But what about that guy of yours?” Sungjin leans against his hand and watches Younghyun closely as he forms the batter to its intended shape.

“What about him?”

Dowoon cocks his head, tugs at Younghyun’s sleeve to make him stop. “The one you’re texting non-stop? The one you call every night?”

“Yes, what about him?”

Sungjin throws his hands up in frustration. “How can you have a lover when you are running back to that teacher after all the time? How often do your relationships fail because you are still in love with that guy?”

Younghyun halts in his movements, evaluating the biscuits. Not the best, but at this point he is too exhausted to go for another try. He shrugs, puts the biscuits in the oven and finally turns to his friends. “I don’t see any problem.”

Sungjin falters. “Really? You are happy for the first time in—I don’t know, years? I haven’t seen you this happy before. Do you really want to mess things up with that guy because we’re going home for a day?”

Home. Home is where the heart lies. And Younghyun’s heart lies within that man’s hands. “That’s not happening. I have a plan, remember?”

Just like all those plans Younghyun did years ago. Ridiculous, really, but they had charm. It made Younghyun think much about the others. How to win them over. How to be his best self. How to make them happy.

And somehow, Wonpil gets it. Always has so, always will so. Because Wonpil suddenly beams at Younghyun, bright as the sun, not as bright as Jae but still.

“Oh my god,” Wonpil gasps. “You’re shitting me!”

Younghyun tries very hard not to smile, failing miserably as he can’t help but grin at the simple thought of Jae. Even when Wonpil starts hitting him, cheering loudly.

“Why? How? When? What?!”

“What the hell?” Dowoon throws a confused glance to Sungjin who looks deeply in thought. He figures it out, eventually. Younghyun can see the signs that it dawns on him slowly but steadily, until it blurts out of him.

“You’re dating teacher-nim?”

Dowoon gasps in shock and joins immediately in punching Younghyun. “I knew it! I knew there was something up when you started grinning like that love-struck teenager you once were.”

And Younghyun laughs. He laughs freely, seeing the happiness on his friends’ faces, and suddenly feels warm everywhere. They are happy for him. They are happy because he is. Younghyun is happy.

_I am happy._

On their drive back home Younghyun tells them, just like back in the old days. He still has his notebook where he has jotted down everything, step one to step x, pointing to what he had done before and what is to follow.

His plan goes as follows:

Visit his mother and ask for her blessing.

(“You go and finally get this teacher! I watched you two pining long enough!”)

Pick up on flowers in the shop and pray that Nayeon isn’t there.

(“Who is that girl that had your heart all this time, oppa?”

“There is no girl, Nayeon.”

“Oh… is it a man?”

“W-What? Why—How—”

“I watched you for some time, oppa. It’s alright. He’s a catch, I guess.”

“Oh… thank you?”

“Here, the flowers. On the house.”)

Go to Jae’s house. Knock on the door. Smile brightly with the flowers and the biscuits in his hands.

(His heart is fluttering. His breathing shallow. He checks his mental list. Flower, biscuits, a phone with a map downloaded to that field of flowers just outside of town. His mother’s car for a small drive to the beach at night.

He hears steps. The door opens. And that is the moment.

“What are you doing here?” Jae looks startled at him, yet a smile breaks slowly out on his face.

Younghyun mirrors the expression, inhaling deeply to get his blush under control. “Surprise visit?”

Jae’s eyes flitter from the flowers to the biscuits and then to the car behind Younghyun, his smile turning into a wide grin. “Still surprising me, he?”

“I promised you, didn't I?”

“You did. And you even brought me biscuits. Self-baked?”

“Just how you like it.” Younghyun nods, licking his lips to buy a second more. “Uhm, I only have to be back in Seoul by tomorrow, so I thought that we could spend the day and night together?”

Beaming brightly just like the sun. Warm. Lovely. “That’d be nice.”)

Visit places. Talk. Laugh.

Kiss him at the beach.

Confess his love, once again.

Ask him.

(“Are you happy, Jae?”

“Hmm… I don’t know.”

“Why not? Is there something I can do about it?”

“Yes.”

“What? Tell me? ... Why are you laughing?”

“Just… be who you are. And stay like that. I want to take a picture.”

“W-what for?”

“To remember? Wanna show those old ahjummas how deep red your face got when you asked me to be your boyfriend.”

“You—what? What ahjummas?”

“I’m kidding. Don’t wanna taint your idol image, do we?”

“I—okay?”

“Brian. I couldn’t have given you any broader hint than that.”

“Hint?”

“Ask me. C’mon, Younghyunnie, ask me finally.”

“Uhm… Oh! Ah… uhm… do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes. A definite yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Because I love you.”

“Oh- ah- I love you, too, hyung.”

“Thank you for making me happy, Younghyun. Are you happy, too?”

“With you by my side, yes. Now I am.”)

_The end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it. This is the end. And wow, this was a ride. Seriously, thank you all guys for reading! A small shout-out to my dear readers who commented because some of them got the point of the story very early in!


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